


Black Fox

by DisneyPrincess



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: CIA, CIA Derek, Derek shooting things, Fluff, Important Things, Investigating, M/M, Oh yea, Smut, So yeah, Undercover Derek, Wedding, after things, black fox, but later, computer genius stiles, internet protest, lots of geeky smut, not sure what else
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 58,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1522823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisneyPrincess/pseuds/DisneyPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>28 year old Derek Hale is in the prime of his career when he's assigned to the Black Fox case. The agency had been putting it off due to lack of evidence, but they'd finally given it to him after months of groveling. If he figured it out, he might even have a shot at a promotion. </p><p>Stiles Stilinski is a 23 year old computer genius who had a lot of ideas. His most famous, Black Fox. He dismantles the websites of corporations that screw over the lesser, and sends the victims retribution in the form of the companies precious money. Until an agent comes knocking on his door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Repent and Repeat

**Author's Note:**

> The story idea came from this photo----> http://veliinora.tumblr.com/post/78934861719/cop-or-agents-au-derek-is-an-agent-stiles-is-a
> 
> Check out the blog!

Derek slowly placed his gun down on the counter in front of him and flipped the switch on the wall. He heard the faint whirring as he removed his protective gear and placed it beside his gun. When he looked back up, the sheet of paper was hanging from a metal clip he'd attached it to five minutes ago. He smiled when he took in the damage. He'd never missed, but seeing the bullet holes in the center of the chest and head on that paper always lifted his mood.

Even if he hadn't been able to convince his boss that he was the best man for the Black Fox case, he could still shoot like a pro. Derek snagged the paper from it's perch and strolled passed all of his co workers, still firing their guns. He loved the sound, it sounded like power. Dumping it in the trash can by the door and Derek felt his grin fall from his face. The second the door shut behind him, Derek was left with silence. 

The last thing he wanted to do was think. It made him angry. He always had that anger boiling just beneath his skin, but recently it had been growing. He was angry that he was nearing 30 and he still wasn't where he wanted to be. He still hadn't found the bastard who had killed most of his family. And worst of all, even with a gun at his hip and the united states backing him, he still felt weak. With a growl, he stared down the hall. He could go home, change, and take a run. That would help his quickly souring mood. 

But as he was waiting for an elevator to open, Peter Hale tapped on his shoulder. Derek didn't have the will power to deal with the man. He was almost as big of a pain in the ass as Laura. Except unlike Laura, he never did things because it was family. He did things because he wanted power. And Derek got that, he really did. All he wanted was to feel powerful too. To know that he could be competent and protect his loved ones. But he would never be like Peter. 

Derek glared at him, but the man seemed completely unfazed. He just stood with his hands in his pockets, wearing that smug face that meant he had news to tell. Which he usually did. He was much higher up on the totem pole than Derek. He knew his uncle was waiting for him to ask, but he refused. Engaging Peter always made him feel like he was losing, and he really hated losing. Somehow, Peter always made him feel three steps behind. 

"Well they finally caved nephew," Peter said, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. 

"Who and what?" he asked shortly. He watched as the little light above the elevator doors drew nearer to his floor. 

"They're giving you the case." Peter stated, and the foot Derek had been tapping froze his uncle could have been lying. But what if he wasn't. "Oh really, good things do happen sometimes. Maybe try out a smile," Peter continued. He placed a hand on Derek's shoulder in what was probably a congratulation, but Derek shook it off and brushed past him. The elevator doors were opening and it was blissfully empty.

"Thank you for the news," Derek responded in his most civil voice. He watched Peter's grin turn into something different before the doors closed and he was staring at his reflection. 

With a sigh, he drooped against the wall. There was no way director Smith simply changed his mind. The man was a brick wall. Derek had been chipping away at him for months, but he couldn't have swayed the man on his own. He was hardly on the director's radar. There had to have been an outside factor that convinced the man. Which sucked, because Derek had always wanted to get the case due to his merit. 

But it had probably been Peter. Which made Derek want to throw up. Peter talked big about family, but he only cared about himself. And if he was helping Derek forward his career, than Peter was probably getting something out of it. That thought alone made him reconsider his goals. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to gain more power. But his lost loved ones were more important. He needed to avenge them. 

So he shoved away all of his awful, negative thoughts and tried to be happy for just a few seconds. He'd gotten that case that he'd been lusting after forever. Tomorrow he would go in, get briefed, then solve the whole thing in no time. The director would be so impressed he would give Derek a promotion. He would get a high up desk job, and have access to the files on the death of his family. Then he would find the bastard who did it and send them to hell. It was full proof. 

When the elevator doors slid open, a group of adults with suits and brief cases got on. Derek got off, pretending he was one of them.

\-----

Stiles couldn't see anything beyond his screen. The dark room seemed pitch black when his focus was so dedicated to the light. But he didn't need to see. He knew his tiny apartment was littered with candy wrappers and cans of soda. His tiny kitchen was spotless, as he'd never used it before in his life. And his bedroom was covered with newspaper clippings and red yarn. That was where he sat, on his computer, at his desk.

He'd just discovered, after bypassing some very secure systems, that they'd finally handed his case over to an agent. The agent's name and information was buried pretty deep. Deep enough that Stiles was having a hell of a lot of trouble finding it. But he didn't need it, so he abandoned that. No one would be able to find him, no matter who they gave his case to. And who ever was looking, wouldn't be looking for long. They never found enough on him to keep his file open.

He was probably being cocky. No, he knew he was, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He'd been so careful for so many years that it was almost too easy, evading the authorities. They just didn't have the brain power that he did. Or the will. Stiles truly believed in his cause, and he'd seen it help people. There was nothing in the world that could stop him from doing what he did. And when he thought about his day job, he knew he needed Black Fox to blow off steam. 

Earlier that day he'd shut down the website of a local law firm and emptied their bank accounts. In the past years, the firm had screwed over countless families in defense of criminals. He hadn't kept any of the money, but sent it to the victims. They were the ones who deserved it. And the website wouldn't be functioning for a few more days. Stiles saw to that and left behind his calling card. The glitching green background with a silhouetted fox.

But he needed to take a break. The authorities would never catch him, but he didn't need to give them anymore incentive to try. He would just stop taking care of assholes for a few weeks, then once his case was put down, he would continue. He had never been one to show restraint, but he was just getting a feeling. And his feelings were usually spot on. People could call him a spaz and misguided, but he was still free, and that was all of the proof he needed. 

With a sigh, he logged off of his laptop. He had nothing else to do until the agent began investigating. Then his name would come up and Stiles wouldn't have to stay up all night digging. He had a knot in his neck and he was feeling twitchy. He glanced at the bottle of medication on his desk. They made it easier for him to sit still for hours on end while hacking. But he was running out. It was for the best that he was taking a break.

Stiles grabbed the red hoodie that hung on his chair and hurried out his front door. The sun was just beginning to sink, but California did not disappoint. It warmed his face despite the fact that it was fading fast. It was a shame. He hadn't gotten much sun in, well, years. His habits were more conducive to the indoors. It was probably too late for his pasty complexion anyways. And the last thing he needed was more freckles. 

He would have taken his jeep but she had been acting up lately, so he decided to just make the short walk to his favorite coffee shop. It was this old brick building that was bordering on crumbling, but he liked it. It was also quiet. It didn't play any weird music in the background. But his favorite part was probably the fact that someone was always there. Usually Allison since she worked there, but Scott hung around a lot for obvious reasons.

The warm air and smell of cinnamon rolls hit him like a brick. Stiles inhaled deeply and headed straight for the the back wall where there was a circular table that his group always inhabited. At the moment, Lydia sat there, surrounded by text books and coffee cups. Stiles bit back a smile and snuck up behind her. He leaned down and whispered right at her ear, "Boo!"

Lydia jumped a mile in the air, knocking a book and two empty coffee cups to the floor. "Dammit Stiles," she shouted, even before she turned to acknowledge him. She knew him well after all of those years. 

"How's studying going?" He asked, bypassing her mess, and sitting across from her chair. Stiles took the liberty of taking a sip of her coffee, but that was more to bug her than anything. He wasn't really big on the caffeine. Lydia looked up from her place on the floor and glared at Stiles. 

"You know I'll make you pay for this." She stated, settling back in her chair. She had that look in her eye that made Stiles believe her easily. 

"I have absolutely no doubt, Dr. Martin," Stiles teased, tapping his fingers on the table. 

"Not yet," Lydia mumbled, already lost in her book. 

Her exams were coming up and Stiles could tell how stressed she was about it. Lydia Martin valued appearances above almost everything, and near exams she always started to slip. She would forget her red lipstick, or her hair would be on the frizzy side. Stiles thought she was beautiful no matter what, but Lydia was loathe to let herself go. She held herself at such a high standard that he was surprised she hadn't crashed yet. 

Once she was a neurosurgeon, he hoped she'd take more breaks, but it wasn't likely. Lydia did as she pleased and no one would ever change that. Not even Jackson, after years of trying, had been able to change her brand of nail polish. He hated the smell and she kicked him out for a week. Stiles would have loved it if Jackson hadn't ended up on his couch for half of it. 

"I'll just leave you to it then," Stile said, slipping from the table. He was positive Lydia hadn't even noticed.

He stopped by the front counter to say hi to Allison, he would get hell if he didn't, and order a cinnamon bun. There was a huge glass case that always displayed all of the treats, and Stiles could never get out without buying one. Allison stood behind the counter, trying to be sneaky about texting on the job. It was probably Scott on the other end. Actually, Stiles would have bet on it. 

"Excuse me, I have been waiting for service for quite some time now," Stiles started, ringing the bell on the counter repeatedly until Allison snatched it away. What he loved about her was that she still offered him a genuine smile. 

"The usual?" She asked, showing dimples and already reaching for the cinnamon rolls. She always gave him the freshest one. 

"So anything new I should know about?" Stiles asked as she bagged his treat. He tapped a tune on the glass. 

"Scott is taking me out to a fancy dinner for our anniversary, Jackson got promoted, Danny started dating this new guy," Allison rambled, holding out the baggy. "You should start coming out of that cave more than once a week." She scolded. Stiles blushed and looked away. He knew he had to get out more, but between work and his hobby, it just never happened.

"I will," Stiles promised, taking the bag. They both knew he wouldn't keep it, but that didn't matter. Allison still leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

"It's on the house," she said, before he could begin rooting through his pockets. 

"Thanks," Stiles saluted her and strolled out the door. 

\-----

Derek arrived early the next day. His briefing was at nine o'clock, but at 8:30 he was in his office, ready to summoned. He'd briefly considered dressing up for the occasion, but had shot the idea down. It was a field work day and he wasn't going to wear a suit if he didn't have to. Besides, he was sure that director Smith hadn't seen him in a suit once since he'd started working there, and showing up in one would have raised alarms.

Derek pulled up a game of solitaire to distract himself until he was called up. He was so excited to finally be on the case, that he couldn't keep his mind from fabricating scenarios where he saved the day and got promoted. It was beginning to get repetitive when he heard the knock on his door frame. A man in a suit stood there, hands in his pockets. 

"Room 309, five minutes," he said, before disappearing down the hall. It was time. 

Derek slowly stood and made his way towards the briefing room like he wasn't freaking out. It was just the case he had been working towards for years. No big deal. And there was no way he was going to mess it up. He'd been preparing for it for far too long. He would solve it, and he would actually get a smile from the director. Derek talked himself up as he stood frozen before the door. 

Inside was a long table with dozens of empty chairs. The director sat at the head of it, staring at the wall where The Black Fox's symbol was flickering. At the sound of the door closing behind Derek, the man turned around, and nodded in acknowledgment. Derek took a seat beside the director and tried to look put together and calm. He could do that. 

"Read over that, it isn't much but it's all we have." The director ordered. Derek took the file that was being held out to him, but he didn't open it. He was meant to read it later. "This is his call sign, and our best guys haven't been able to pin down an ip address, so you're working from scratch." He continued, pointing to the image on the wall. It was all business. 

"Will I be undercover?" He asked when he determined Smith was done. The man shook his head slightly. 

"Not necessary. You just have to know his patterns. He takes down less than reputable companies. One a week, but whenever an agent picks up a case, he stops cold. He gets into our database every time without leaving a trace, so when we get this guy, he's going away for a long time. I'll expect daily reports on my desk and all resources are available to you for the time being." He explained, standing. 

Derek nodded then watched director Smith hurry out. It wasn't like had time to dawdle. He probably had a lot to do. Like Derek. He looked down at the file in front of him. It was embarrassingly thin. Inside, there was no real information about the man behind the Black Fox. It was mostly companies that he had targeted, and necessary credentials for someone to pull off what he had. Plus a list of possible suspects, but most had been ruled out. 

Derek looked back up at the call sign flickering on the wall. Who ever had made it had the power to change his life. He just couldn't believe he had finally gotten there. He was going to do everything in his power to catch the guy. With a sigh, Derek stood and exited the briefing room. He needed to get to work if he was going to be the agent to crack the code.

\-----  
One Week Later  
\-----

"That is fantastic news," Laura said, taking a drink from her glass of wine. 

"Yeah, I just thought they had more information on the case. They pretty much gave me nothing," Derek complained, scratching his scruff. He ignored the large party behind him and focused on his sister. They were out for a nice dinner. Not to get annoyed by loud assholes three tables over. 

"You'll figure it out." Laura assure him, patting his hand. "You've been waiting for this chance for years." He wished that was comforting. It only added to his nerves. 

"Yeah, I just don't want to blow it. Theres a lot riding on this," he said, tapping his glass. Laura's furrowed her brow. He could feel the lecture. 

"Derek, I want you to do good, but you don't have to solve everything." Laura squeezed his hand. They didn't have to say it, they both knew what Derek wanted. 

"I know, but I want to," Derek said, and just like that it was over. Laura made that sour look, he pretended not to notice, and she moved on to a safer topic.

"Are you at least getting out?" She asked for the millionth time. She swore he never did anything. He did go out sometimes. 

"Boyd and Erica and I went out a few days ago, and Isaac is forcing me to go celebrate with him tomorrow." He assured her. She worried like a mom. She nodded but he could tell she still wasn't satisfied. He knew where it was going.

"So no dates?" She asked hopefully. He almost didn't want to say it. 

"I don't have time to date," Derek said, looking away. He heard Laura scoff. 

"I have a few friends..." she offered, pulling out her phone.

Derek rolled his eyes and gently took the phone from her hand. "You are not setting me up with one of your friends, I can get my own date."

"But why not? I promise they're cute." Laura whined, pouting up at him. Derek almost broke, but then he thought of the time she tried to set him up with a stripper. That set him straight fast. 

\-----

Stiles kicked the clothes on the floor out of the way. The small piles were everywhere, but at the moment he really needed the space in front of his only mirror. He'd jelled his hair into place, put on a nice shirt and tie, and even worn dress shoes. He thought he cleaned up pretty well. And a celebration party for Scott and Allison's engagement was a very good reason. 

They were already 23, and everyone was just shocked they'd waited so long to tie the knot. Stiles wasn't surprised at all since Scott had told him he was planning to propose a year ago. Scott just needed twelve months to work up the nerve. And now that he was working at the animal clinic, and Allison was almost done with school, it seemed like great timing. Stiles couldn't have been more happy for them, though he was a little jealous. 

They were so happy. It was like they were really meant to be together. Even mentioning the sound of Allison's name made Scott go doe eyed. And if anyone ever mentioned anything to do with animals, Allison would launch into how much Scott care about them. They fought and made up within minutes and they constantly showed each other how much they cared in these nauseating, sweet gestures.

It was absolutely disgusting and Stiles had never wanted anything more in his entire life. For a while he'd thought he could have that with Lydia, but after an unfortunate college experience, Stiles realized he was batting for the wrong team. Which would have been a nice revelation if the entire student body hadn't found out on the same day as him. But he didn't want to think about that. He just wanted to go out, celebrate, and tell as many embarrassing stories as he could fit into one night. 

With one last hand through his hair, Stiles was out the door. 

\-----

"Ah so he can survive without a computer screen? And he wears clothes beside that ratty hood?" Jackson mocked as Stiles approached their table. Everyone sat at the table, looking at him expectantly. Normally he would have a sarcastic comment ready, but he wanted to be good, because it was Scott and Allison's night and he wanted them to enjoy it. 

"Hello everyone, I hope I'm not too late." he greeted, taking the only seat between Lydia and Allison. He pecked Allison on the cheek as he sat. "Congratulations by the way. But there is still time to back out if you're realizing what a dork Scott is," Stiles stage whispered. Allison blushed, and Scott rolled his eyes. 

"Dude you wish you were as cool as me." Scott argued with a scoff. Stiles took a huge bit of bread and shrugged. Jackson curled his lip in disgust. 

"Can we get back to the point?" Lydia asked. But it wasn't really a question because she didn't have to ask. "Allison did you set a date yet?" 

"Well it's only been a day, but we do want a spring wedding," she hinted with a smile. Allison had enlisted Lydia as her maid of honor, and stiles was obviously the best man, so they were already talking plans. Lydia would have a binder by the end of the week. 

"I'm sure you guys will have it all planned out it no time," Danny assured. "I mean, you have about six months right? That's more than enough time for Lydia to work her magic." He smiled over at her and everyone agreed. Lydia could do anything. 

"Yeah, she's kind of great," Jackson admitted. He could be such a kiss ass sometimes. 

"Speaking of great, where is Ethan? I thought you were bringing him," Lydia said to Danny with a grin. 

"He had a thing with his brother. He couldn't get away." Danny said shyly. He and Ethan were still pretty new. "Aren't we supposed to be focusing on his love life," Danny said, pointing at Scott. Stiles laughed and patted Danny on the back. He was right, after all. 

Then it dissolved into madness. Danny, Jackson, and Stiles, though he hated to ever team up with Jackson, spent the next hour reliving every embarrassing think Scott had ever done. It started with the time he streaked around the neighborhood when he was seven, and ended with the time he got so drunk he sent his mom naked pictures by accident. He really didn't like clothing. 

Allison and Lydia huddled up and ignored all of them. They were glued to Lydia's ipad, looking up flowers, dresses, and whatever else was necessary for the biggest wedding of the century. He couldn't really blame them for it once the bets began. Scott bet Stiles he couldn't sit still for the whole ceremony. Stiles bet Jackson he couldn't be nice until the ceremony. Jackson bet Allison would divorce him after the first year. Danny smacked him for that one. 

Stiles didn't get home until one o'clock in the morning. He was more than a little bit drunk. Also really drained. Long social things always exhausted him, especially when Jackson was present. It was like he couldn't turn off his douchiness. Stiles only had time to loosen his tie and kick off his shoes before he collapsed onto his mattress. The second his head hit his pillow he was gone. 

\-----

Stiles was woken up to a pounding in his skull and on his front door. He couldn't really tell them apart at first. But after the water and the advil, he realized there was in fact someone pounding on his door. He yanked open the door with a scowl, only to be met with the most unfairly attractive man he'd ever seen. That wiped the frown off of his face in record time. 

Unfortunately, he couldn't so easily change his outfit. He was still wearing his rumpled clothes from the night before and he didn't even want to see his hair. And here was this tall man with a strong jaw and broad chest and thick arms. He was scruffy, and wearing a leather jacket. And Stiles had no idea why this perfect human being was standing at his door staring at him expressionless. 

"Um, can I help you?" Stiles asked once he realized he'd probably been staring silently for too long. 

"Is this the Stilinski residence?" He asked in a low voice that was not even fair. 

"Yeah..." Stiles trailed off, wondering if he was going to wake up from a great dream any second. 

"Can I come in? I'd like to discuss some business with you." It took him a moment to realize that this person wanted to come into his apartment. His really messy apartment.

"Sure...But who are you? Because I'm not to keen on strangers. You know, stranger danger and all." Stiles rambled, leaning on the door. Derek raised an eyebrow. 

"Agent Hale." He flashed a badge from under his jacket and Stiles caught sight of a gun. God, there was always a downside. A hot guy shows up on his doorstep, it's an agent who was probably going to lock him up for life. 

"Sure, come on in," Stiles said easily, opening the door for Agent Hale. He could play it cool, maybe they weren't on to him. It could be completely unrelated. Yeah, totally. He shut the door and watched Hale take in the small living room. 

"We've been watching you for some time," the agent said conversationally, hands in his pockets. Stiles felt himself tense at the implications.

"Why, I'm just an IT guy for Best Buy?" Stiles asked, taking a seat on his couch. Hale did not join him. 

"We know about your talents. You could have gone to any school in the country, yet here you are working in a dead end job." He continued, eyes landing and staying on Stiles. 

"I get pretty good benefits," Stiles defended. He was getting kind of nervous. The urge to tap his foot or shake his leg was overwhelming. Why was he here?

"But I can offer you something better." Agent Hale said, suddenly excited. He took a seat next to stiles finally. "If you help me with an investigation, you can have benefits, great pay, and a pretty good hours." Hale continued. Stiles was suddenly confused. Wasn't the cop there to take him to jail. Why would they possibly need his help? They weren't even supposed to know about his talents. 

But he liked the sound of what Hale was offering. If he joined an agency, he would be cleared of any suspicion automatically if anyone got close on his case. And he could help people with more than their malfunctioning iphones. If his job was actually good, he could even stop Black Fox. He'd only started so that he could bring criminals to justice, to make sure nothing like what happened to his mother, never happened again. 

But law enforcement was something he hadn't even considered. After what had happened to his father, it had always seemed like a field he just wasn't cut out for. He could never be as good as his dad. He had tried to make his parents proud with Black Fox, but he thought maybe they would appreciate this more. And Agent Hale wasn't too much of a down side either. 

"Okay, what do I do first?" Stiles finally asked. 

"You're going to help me catch the Black Fox," Hale said with a grim smile. Stiles tried not to let his grin falter, he really did. "Oh, and I'm Derek. I couldn't pronounce your first name..."

Stiles swallowed thickly and nodded. No one could. "Just call me Stiles." He said like he hadn't just agreed to hunt himself down. 

"What is a Stiles?" Derek asked. He was cute when he was confused. Except Stiles wasn't supposed to be noticing that. He was supposed to be running for the hills. 

"It's me. I kind of need to wrap my head around this so would you mind if..." Stiles trailed off, not actually sure what he wanted to say. Was there a polite way to ask a federal agent to get the fuck out. 

"Right, this is my number. Call me when you're ready to talk. Make it soon though. I'm on a schedule." Derek stood, handed Stiles a business card, and hurried out the door.

Stiles stared at the business card in his hand. Then he watched the door fall shut behind Agent Derek Hale. He could pack his things and run. Never look back, start a new life. But Scott was getting married and Beacon hills was his home town. He'd grown up there. If it hadn't been the last place his mother and father had ever lived, he would have moved ages ago. 

Stiles fell onto his back and let himself think about them. Most days it hurt too much, but he couldn't keep them away at them moment. Without his volition, he thought about how his mother used to sing him to sleep every night. And how his father was always getting him out of trouble, no matter what Stiles had done. It just wasn't fair that he'd gotten so little time with them. He hadn't appreciated them the way he should have. 

Their house was still there, empty and collecting dust, but Stiles couldn't live in it. It held too many good memories. He also couldn't bring himself to sell it. So it sat there unused, while he lived in a dingy apartment across town. Stiles hadn't been to the house in years, which was probably why he'd been able to go so long without thinking about his parents. Which was sad. 

He owed it to them to be the best he could be. But he wasn't sure if that meant he had to continue with Black Fox, or work with Agent Hale. Black Fox was illegal, and he was putting his freedom at risk, but he'd seen it help so many people. Working with the government was more kosher, but there was no guarantee he would help anyone. His first assignment was to stop Black Fox. It was all so confusing. 

Unless he did both. Being in the agency was a sure fire way to take him off of the suspect list. And if he was investigating, he could keep Derek off of his trail and keep helping people. And he wouldn't have to choose one way. He could still make his parents proud and be proud of himself. And he could quit his fucking job at Best Buy, which seemed like the best reason yet. 

Stiles jumped to his feet and dug up his phone. He quickly typed in Derek's phone number and listened to it ring. He thought it was going to go to voicemail. The guy looked like he had a lot to do. But Derek picked up on the second ring. Stiles kind of felt empowered. Either the guy got important calls often, or he really wanted Stiles to help him find Black Fox. Awesome.

"When do we start?" Stiles asked, before the agent could get a word out.


	2. Alone Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been quite the wait but even though I decided to continue, I have other stories in progress. I hope this is good enough, I tried. Enjoy ^.^

"I'm telling you Scott, he was an easy 10," Stiles insisted, holding the phone with his shoulder and tugging on a pair of skinny jeans. It was a bit of a challenge but Stiles had an endless arsenal of useless skills. 

"Then I don't know what the problem is," Scott said for the hundredth time. Stiles sighed and began searching for a clean shirt among the dozens on his floor. 

He couldn't blame Scott for his frustration. They had been talking in circles for an hour. Stiles would say how smoking hot Agent Hale was, and Scott would tell him to ask the guy out. Then Stiles would say that he couldn't, and Scott would get frustrated because Stiles wouldn't tell him why. Then it would begin again. 

But Stiles couldn't help it. He couldn't tell Scott about his extra curricular activities. If Stiles ever got caught, he didn't want his friends to get roped into it. He also knew that Scott was what most people called a goodey two shoes. He would be so disappointed if Stiles ever told him. And then he would make stiles stop, which was out of the question. 

"You're right, I guess I'm just a chicken," Stiles finally said, settling for a red, plaid button down. He rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. He doubted Derek cared what he looked like anyways. Scott laughed loudly on the other end. 

"You're a lot of things, but never a chicken," he teased. "But if you don't want to tell me the real reason it's fine. I'll talk to you later, Allison calls." Then Scott hung up without another word.

Stiles rolled his eyes and tucked the phone into his pocket, but not before he caught a glimpse of the time. It was already past 6. He was late. Stiles threw on a black beenie and hurried out his front door, trying to remember where he had agreed to meet Derek. Agent Hale. He wasn't really sure if working together meant he could call the man by his first name. 

He seemed like a stickler. Maybe it had been the suit. Or the fact that he looked like a workaholic. Or it could have been the gun. Stiles had to admit that guns did make him a little nervous. Well everything made him nervous. One of the perks of anxiety. But guns were this awful thing that took his father from him. He shook away the thought and hurried to his jeep. 

Regardless, he didn't want to be late for his date with Derek.

\-----

Derek had to keep his nerves in check more than anything else. He knew that when he got nervous, he tended to think with his fists, and that probably wasn't going to help his case much. Stiles, he would never get over what a weird name that was, was such a twig that he would probably break after one hit. Not that Derek was going to hit his only help on the biggest case of his life. 

Stiles was his only help after all. He liked working alone. Derek had never been known for playing well with others. But with no idea where to start, he searched his data base for people of interest. There were dozens of candidates with pages of reasons why they were the best techies out there, but something about Stiles drew him in. The fact that he lived in complete obscurity, especially with his talents, was strange. 

Derek had also been betting on a really weird dude, considering the foreign name. Stiles was a little weird, jumpy, but he hadn't been what Derek had been expecting. Pale? Yes. Thin? Yes. Cute? Why did God hate him? The second Laura caught wind of him, Derek would be in hell. It would be endless pushing and prodding to ask the kid out, despite their work relationship and obvious age difference.

He took a sip of his black coffee and scanned the patio again. He'd been leaning toward going somewhere more private, but Stiles had insisted on a public place, so Derek chose the random coffee house. He had at least picked a table outside, under an umbrella. There were less people and a nice breeze. Stiles didn't arrive until the sun was just sinking below the trees and Derek's coffee was long gone.

The jeep had a loud enough engine that most of the patrons turned and looked as it pulled into the parking lot. Derek recognized it as belonging to Stiles immediately. The boy tripped out of the vehicle and caught himself on the asphalt. He brushed himself off and entered the shop like nothing had happened. Derek had to smother his grin. He wasn't there to laugh at the antics of a child. 

He was just reminding himself of that when said child sat down across from him with a chocolate coffee drink. Like he needed the caffeine and sugar. Derek could already tell what a pain in the ass the kid was going to be. Even if he was kind of on the attractive side. You know, kind of. 

"Hey Derek, hows it hanging?" he asked taking a long draw from his drink. His leg was shaking under the table. It bothered Derek for some reason. 

"Great. Now if we're going to be working together, I need you to sign a few things." Derek said, jumping right into it. He pulled his briefcase onto the table and snapped it open. There were three papers he needed signed before they could talk about any official business. He slid the first over to Stiles. "This states that if you are hurt in the line of duty, you will not sue me or the CIA," Derek explained. 

Stiles nodded but barely glanced at it. He was inspecting his drink. "All work and no play," he mumbled, before glancing at Derek. "You got a pen?"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to read it? Maybe get a lawyer?" Stiles laughed and extended a hand. 

"Nope. I'm sure the CIA is very trust worthy." Derek couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but he handed the boy a pen anyways. If he didn't want to look out for himself, it wasn't up to Derek to do it. 

"Ok," he muttered, taking the document back after Stiles signed it with a flourish. "This one goes over your payment, benefits, hours, obligations, and other related business." Derek handed it to him, and Stiles skimmed the paper then signed it as well.

"It all seems kosher. Is that all?" Stiles grinned up at him, chin in his hand. Something in Derek's chest loosened, until the kid started tapping his damn fingers on the table.

"No," Derek replied gruffly. He was just a stupid kid, wearing stupid flannel, with a stupid trusting smile. Derek pulled out the final document and slid it across the table. "This one states we have the right to hold you and try you if you impede the investigation." Stiles' fingers froze on the table. 

Stiles read that one very thoroughly, and hesitated at the dotted line. Derek thought maybe he knew how badly he would do in a small room for an extended period of time with nothing to occupy himself. But still, he doubted the kid would do anything to impede the investigation. He wasn't an idiot. And he would have no reason to. Stiles gnawed at his lip, then signed.

Derek relaxed slightly when all three forms were safely back in his briefcase. 

"So what now?" Stiles asked, tapping his foot and fingers in time. He was just a delight. 

"Now I'm allowed to show you this," Derek said as he pulled out the file on The Black Fox. He slid it across the table and Stiles immediately flipped it open. 

He stopped his tapping, but he did bite his nail as he read. He scoffed at one point and Derek resisted the urge to smack him upside the head. Derek knew all to well that their information was meager. That was the only reason he'd even considered working with someone, let alone a computer nerd.

"So this is all you have?" Stiles finally asked, biting back a grin. The bastard was laughing. Derek slipped his hands under the table so he wouldn't see the fists. 

"Yes, why do you think I found you," Derek ground out. So maybe he had a bit of an anger issue? So what?

"I am the best," Stiles bragged, letting the file fall shut. "I'm going to need time to look into this." He sat back, tapping his knee and slurping his drink like he was completely in control. That was what drove Derek crazy. At the end of the day, he had not control over any of it.

"You have until tomorrow night. I'll be at your place at 8." Derek said standing and grabbing his briefcase. He shoved his free hand in his pocket and strolled toward his car. He could feel Stiles staring after him in confusion but he didn't turn back. He needed that.

\-----

Stiles paced in his apartment, kicking things from his path harder than necessary. He'd been so stupid to think he could work with the CIA. They were trying to catch him. They made him sign papers. He had to look like he was trying to catch The Black Fox or they would arrest him. Put him in jail. He couldn't last in prison. He was too pretty. 

He nibbled on his nail as he tried to work out a plan. He could lead Derek down the wrong path, but how long could he do that before the man lost his temper. Stiles had seen it flare up earlier that day. Derek got a tick in his jaw that gave him away. If he couldn't handle Stiles being normal, than he wouldn't handle wild goose chases well. 

But a wild goose chase would at least buy Stiles time. He could send Derek to a few dead ends and try to formulate a better plan in the mean time. It wasn't as though Derek would catch on. He obviously had no clue when it came to computers. Stiles would just blame it on the guy being better than him. He could swallow his pride.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and allowed himself to relax. He was smart, smarter than Agent Hale. Hot as the guy was, he was clearly just the brawn. Stiles would figure it all out and get out scot free like he always did. The Black Fox file reassured him of that. It really was sad, the lack of information they had on him. It was like they didn't have tech guys in the CIA. 

He grabbed it off the floor and flipped it back open. There were only three sheets of paper. The first held an image of his logo. The second had a list of all of the companies he had hit. The third held a list of suspects who were capable of pulling off the stunt and leaving no trace. The list was flawed though. Stiles knew most of the people on the list and about half of them couldn't pull off what he did. The people who could, weren't on it. Neither was he. 

That made him grin. 

It was midnight when Stiles finally dragged himself to his computer and flipped it on. What he needed was someone to blame it all on. Stiles considered finding someone he could pin it on. Someone with enough talent to pull it off, but not enough that they would figure out what Stiles was doing and destroy him. Stiles couldn't bring himself to do it though. He couldn't ruin someones life like that. 

So instead, Stiles just picked a state, Maine because it was so very far away, and decided he was going to tell Agent Hale that the signal originated from the state. That would buy him some time to figure out what to do. While Mr. Tall dark and handsome was out searching for a lead, Stiles would search for a way out of the mess he'd gotten himself into. 

Then after the case was closed, Stiles could focus on more pressing matters. Like what Agent Hale looked like underneath that suit. 

Then his phone rang. 

\-----

Derek opened the door to his apartment and felt himself relax as the door closed behind him. His place always relaxed him. It was so sterile. Everything had it's place. There was nothing unnecessary. Nothing lying around. He loved it. Nothing like Stiles' apartment. He'd considered calling the health department after stepping foot in there. There was no way it was up to code. 

But he didn't want to think about Stiles. Not when he was finally home. He stripped off his suit and changed into a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. He couldn't wait until there was a lead. Derek would be able to wear whatever he wanted once he was in the field. With Stiles. He growled at the thought and punched the nearest wall. When had he lost control of his thoughts?

"Derek are you okay?" Laura walked out of the bathroom, hands on her hips. Derek had to fight the eye roll he felt coming on. That would only add fuel to the fire. 

"How did you get in?" He asked, ignoring her's. Laura didn't even look ashamed. 

"You left your bedroom window unlocked." she explained, flopping down on the sofa. "So what's got your panties in a bunch?" She looked up at him expectantly. He almost wanted to tell her the truth. 

"Work." Derek said gruffly, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water. She could be so pushy. Though to be fair, she had just seen him slam his fist into a wall. Who knew Stiles could inspire such aggression. Derek shoved him from his thoughts once more and took a long pull from the water bottle. 

"Oh please Derek, you're an awful liar," Laura said, aiming her big eyes at him. "Tell me the truth." He sighed and put it down. 

"It's just a new coworker who's giving me hell," he complained, abandoning his drink and collapsing next to Laura. He'd learned that the more distressed he appeared, the more likely she was to believe him. 

"That's okay, I know you're giving 'em hell right back," she comforted him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "So how is the new case going?" Derek didn't even try to bite back the groan. "That bad?" She smiled up at him and Derek remembered again why he loved Laura so much, besides the fact that she was his sister. 

"No new leads," he explained, letting his head fall back. His eyes slid shut against his will. 

"You'll figure it out, you always do," Laura said, patting her brother on the shoulder. 

"I hope so," Derek muttered, feeling his day catch up to him. Just meeting with Stiles had been tiring, working with him was going to be exhausting. 

Laura sat curled up next to Derek for a while after he'd fallen asleep. She rarely got the chance to see him so calm and relaxed. His whole life had been a mission leading up to avenging their parents. There had never been any room for relaxation. But she also wanted to make sure he was really asleep. She had ulterior motives for showing up at his apartment that night. 

She slowly stood and backed away from the couch. She lifted Derek's keys from the bowl by the door and slowly pulled off his house key. It was sad that he forced his sister to crawl through a window in order to visit him. She deserved a key. So she would go make a copy, and bring him back the original before he even noticed it was gone. 

With a small smile, Laura slid the key off the chain and dropped it in her pocket. After placing a blanket over her softly snoring brother, she silently slipped out of the apartment. She didn't have the heart to wake him so he could move to his bed when she knew sleep came so rarely for him. At least with a house key, she wouldn't have to disturb him next time she wanted to snoop.

\-----

"Why wouldn't he be excited?" Allison asked, taking a bite of her salad. "All he does is complain about the idiots at his job, and this will definitely have better pay and benefits."

Scott shrugged his shoulders dispassionately. "There was just something about the way he was talking about it. Like there was a catch he wasn't telling me about."

More than anything, Scott loved when he and Allison could get away and have lunch dates. It always helped to talk to her when he was confused or upset about something. And it was so difficult for them both to get away from the animal clinic and coffee shop, so they didn't get to do it often. Maybe once a week. But that made all the better when they did. 

Allison was wearing her hair down and it reached just past her shoulders in soft waves. She was just in a t-shirt and jeans, her work clothes, but even those couldn't dull her shine. She was this light no matter where she went. And she was Scotts's anchor, keeping him grounded through the worst of times. He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed what Allison was saying.

"Was it the hunk?" Allison asked with a small smile. Scott returned it slowly, he couldn't help himself. 

"Derek? I don't know, he seemed pretty psyched about that," Scott said with a laugh. He took a bit from his steak. At least he could tell that much about his best friend. Stiles was more than obvious when he had a new love interest. He didn't even want to think about how transfixed the boy had once been with Lydia. 

"Have you seen him?" Allison leaned in a few inches. Scott didn't even think she noticed when she went into gossip mode.

"No, Stiles refuses to be a creep like he usually is. He won't even take a sneaky photo on his phone," Scott complained.

Allison nodded in sympathy and took his hand. "He must be really cute."

"Stile's gave him a 10," Scott reminded her. Lydia had gotten a 9.5, so that was saying something. 

"Oh he's got it bad," Allison teased, showing her dimples and taking another large bite.

Scott nodded in agreement and squeezed Allison's hand. His gaze couldn't help but fall on her ring finger where her engagement ring sat. His small smile grew into a full blown grin. God, he was finally going to get to marry the love of his life. Scott could hardly even believe that Allison had said yes. "I love you," he blurted out.

"I love you too," Allison replied without hesitation. She leaned over and pecked Scott on the lips. 

He suddenly hoped that this Derek thing worked out. Stiles tended to want people who weren't interested in him at all. And all Scott wanted was for his friend to be as happy as he was. Stiles deserved to be happy, especially after everything he'd been through. Scott just had to make sure Derek didn't become another painful part of his history. 

"Want to drop by his place later tonight? I think he could use the moral support," Scott suggested, knowing full well Derek was stopping by at 8. Stiles should have known better than to tell that to Scott when he wouldn't even mention a last name. 

"That sounds like a great idea, you're such a good friend." Allison took a bite of her salad and grinned across the table at him. She loved their lunch dates as much as he did. And she honestly thought he was doing something out of worry for his friend. Well he was, he just knew Stiles wouldn't see it that way. 

Scott hoped he would be talking to him tomorrow.

\-----

Derek paused before knocking the door. He was just so tired, he needed one more moment of blissful silence before he stepped into a completely different world. Which was strange because last night he'd actually gotten a few hours of sleep for a change. Most of the time he got about forty five minutes before being woken by the nightmares. Then he would drift in and out restlessly. 

Derek knew it was going to catch up to him one day, but he hoped that would be later. Maybe after he solved the Black Fox case. Which if he wanted even an iota of a chance, he knew he needed to knock on the door. He just wished Stiles would stop being so fucking distracting. Why couldn't he have picked an older, weirder guy? 

His only consolation had been that he hadn't had to put on a suit that morning. He'd tugged on a worn t-shirt, faded jeans, and his leather jacket as he was leaving and it felt amazing. It was probably going to suck working behind a desk because suits would be mandatory, but it would all be worth it in the end when Derek caught the man who killed his family. 

Just as he was working up the nerve to knock, the door flew open.

Stiles stood in the doorway looking up at Derek with wide eyes. He didn't seem all that affected by the presence of Derek though. He looked kind of like he was going to explode. Without a word the young boy, Derek had to remind himself when Stiles licked his lips like that, rushed to the kitchen were the coffee maker was bubbling. He leaned on the counter tapping his fingers while waiting for it to finish. 

"So why were you skulking outside?" He asked loudly, glancing at Derek over his shoulder before gazing back at the coffee maker. 

If Derek was being honest, he didn't want to go inside and shut the door behind him. His sister joked that he had no heart, but he felt really bad at that moment. It was 8 o'clock at night and stiles was jacked up on coffee like a junkie. He looked really messed up, and Derek knew that pot wasn't his first. Which made him feel like a dick because he was the one who wanted to be in control and give Stiles no time to accomplish anything. 

Regardless, he scowled and closed the door behind him. "I don't skulk."

"You most certainly do," Stiles disagreed, pouring himself a hearty cup of coffee. "But you are punctual. Is it 'cause you're a fed?" he continued, turning towards Derek and breathing in his cup. Derek tried not to linger on the bags under his eyes. Had those been there the day before? Derek made what could have been a grunt and searched for a safe place to sit. There was stuff everywhere.

As he zeroed in on Stile's computer chair, Stile jumped to attention. "Oh no, that's my chair big boy." he objected, slipping into it before Derek could. The ease with which Stiles could rush and not spill his coffee spoke volumes. 

"Big boy?" Derek asked, feeling the scowl fall back onto his lips. 

Stiles didn't even look up as he brought his computer to life. He did have the grace to blush. Which Derek pointedly didn't notice. "Yeah, I don't know if you've noticed but you are kind of large...." Stiles said, trailing off. He pulled up a page and Derek leaned over his shoulder, noticing how his knuckles fidgeted.

"Or you're small," Derek mumbled. Stiles shot him a glare then pulled up a dozen more windows. 

"I'm going to go ahead and be the bigger person here," Stiles said under his breath. 

Derek cleared his throat and nodded towards the screen. When had he ever been someone who got off track? He made sure his expression was especially sour, though Stiles didn't turn back to see it. His full focus was on the computer screen. Good. Derek most definitely wasn't pouting.

"So this is what I found," Stiles started excitedly, like the last few minutes hadn't happened. "I was able to get an IP address from the last site he or she hit. I traced it and I got a signal from a small town. Andover, Maine. Population 910. Got to hand it to the guy, he picked the perfect place to settle down and ruin people. It's tiny, and the chances of someone looking there were slim to none." Stiles explained, showing how he'd tracked the signal. 

Derek leaned closer to the screen and actually felt a small smile tug at his lips. They were doing it. It was happening. He was actually going to catch the son of a bitch. Stiles turned his head and grinned up at Derek and they were suddenly way closer than Derek had intended. He knew he needed to back away, there were lines he couldn't cross. But Stiles had eyelashes that went on for miles and freckles and soft lips. 

Then a key was jingling in the lock of Stiles door. 

Derek was across the room, leaning both of his hands on the wall in seconds. He didn't turn around until the door was open and he was sure Stiles was no longer looking at him. That was way too close. Derek couldn't risk ruining the most important case he'd ever had. But he also couldn't bare to see the look on Stiles' face. Whether it was disappointment or relief, he didn't want to know. 

There was a couple standing in front of the closed door when he did look. Stiles had risen to greet them and fist bump the man. The strangers were both grinning widely and sneaking glances at Derek. Stiles looked more uncomfortable than Derek had ever seen. He was probably freaked they had almost walked in on them. 

"Derek, this is Scott and Allison. Friends of mine who were just leaving." Stiles introduced him with a strained smile. 

Derek extended a hand to them. He could be polite, but he wouldn't be happy about it. "Agent Hale." Stiles cringed and Scott smirked. There was obviously something going on that he didn't know about. They stood in silence, Stiles staring at the floor with flushed cheeks and his friends examining Derek. 

"Well this had been great, but I need to go book a flight and make arrangements. Stiles, I'll be here to pick you up tomorrow morning. I have your number so I'll call you when I book the flight and tell you the exact time." 

Derek nodded at them in goodbye and made a bee line for the door. He was no good at social things. Besides Stiles' friends were probably as weird as him. Stiles' head snapped up though and he launched himself between Derek and the door. Stiles was very much in his space and Derek took a slow, deliberate step back. The boy didn't look affected at all and he didn't move from his protective stance.

"What do you mean you'll be picking me up?" He asked nervously. Derek wished the kid had more common sense. 

"I'm not technologically savvy. If we're going to get the job done, you need to be there." Derek said carefully, fully aware of the fact that his friends were still watching. "The CIA is going to pay for all of the expenses if that's the issue." Stiles didn't look soothed in the least. 

"But you never mentioned this," he argued weakly. Derek heard a cough behind him and chose to ignore it. 

"It was in the papers you signed. You're obligated to assist me if it's needed, that includes traveling to follow a lead." Derek explained. He felt the frustration sink in, but he also felt like maybe it was his fault. He should have insisted that Stiles read the documents thoroughly. "Look," he said with a sigh, "If there's a problem, we can work it out. What is it?" He gave Stiles his least threatening face, which wasn't all that easy. 

It also didn't work. He didn't relax in the least. "No, that's fine. I guess I'll be ready when you call," Stiles agreed, prying himself from the door with visible effort. Derek waited a moment to make sure he wasn't going to freak out. Then with one last nod to his friends, Derek left. 

Outside in the hallway, Derek allowed himself a smile. Everything was falling into place. They had a lead and Stiles was going to be a mostly willing partner. Derek would have to be on his guard about getting too close though. He'd almost kissed him back there. And it would probably get harder to not slam him against a wall and kiss his brains out. But Derek was all about control. He could do it. 

He had to.

\-----

Stiles wanted to freak out. He wanted to throw things. They had almost kissed and Derek was taking him on the investigation. That warranted a freak out. But Stiles had other things to worry about. Like the two friends who had showed up without warning and were looking at him with incredibly smug smiles. The moment the door closed, they pounced. 

"My god, you weren't kidding! Saying he was a 10 was an understatement!" Allison cried in excitement. Stiles winced and looked over at Scott who looked a little hurt but he covered it up well. Stiles caught Allison's gaze and glanced at Scott. She realized her mistake quickly. "But you're better," she whispered in Scott's ear. She said something else that Stiles was glad he hadn't heard.

"But you weren't kidding," Allison added once all was well in paradise. Stiles fought a smile and moved back to his computer, shut it down. 

"Yeah, he's a dream boat," Scott joked, plopping down on Stiles' couch. Allison sat on his lap. She'd never really liked his mess. Kind of liked Derek. Dammit Stiles, stop smiling.

"Kind of serious though. He didn't crack a single smile." Allison commented as she got comfortable. 

"Would it kill him to crack a smile?" Scott asked rhetorically while Stiles sat across from them in his arm chair. He didn't bother offering them any thing. If they wanted something they would get it themselves. That was how it worked at all of their places. Except Jackson. He was weirdly anal about where things went. 

"Probably," Stiles finally said, tapping his knee. "But I think that's part of the charm. Like when I finally break through that shell, it's going to be so worth it," Stiles admitted. Derek had smiled for a moment when Stiles gave him the fake lead and it had been pretty awesome.

Allison smiled at him knowingly. "That body doesn't hurt either, huh?" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stiles said, looking away. From what Stiles had seen, which sadly wasn't much, Derek's body was nothing to scoff at. 

"I think that blush says otherwise," Scott teased. He was enjoying that far too much. 

"So why did you guys stop by? It's such a coincidence that it would be the exact same time as Derek," Stiles bit out, glaring at his best friend. 

"Actually we got here 10 minutes after him. And isn't it Agent Hale?" Scott asked, smirk back in place. Stiles' finger ceased it's tapping for a moment and Allison bit her lip. She was so on Scott's side. 

"Jokes on you. I couldn't find anything, so you won't either." Stiles said smugly. He got up to retrieve his cup of coffee, but half way there Scott stopped him in his place. 

"So you looked him up?" Scott looked over the back of the couch at him with a grin that said he'd won. 

Stiles couldn't deny it, but he didn't want to admit it. He had looked up Derek when it had been an issue for Black Fox. But Scott didn't know anything about that. And admitting he looked up Derek would be admitting he liked him a lot. And Stiles wasn't sure that was the case yet. He didn't want to look like a complete creep but he had no choice. 

"I didn't dig very deep," Stiles responded neutrally, forcing himself to move. He grabbed his half empty and took his seat once again. He couldn't help it when his leg started shaking. 

"Well then it's a good thing you're going on a trip with him. You can find out the rest," Allison said cheerfully. She couldn't completely hide her mischievous look though. 

They both left a while later after Stiles asked about the wedding plans. It was nice to catch up, but he'd been eager to get rid of them. All Stiles wanted was silence so he could process everything that had happened. When they finally left, he breathed a monumental sigh of relief. Finally, he could figure out what to do about Derek. 

He dumped the remainder of his coffee and felt the day catch up to him. He'd spent the whole day and several pots of coffee trying to figure out the best place to 'find the signal.' Then he'd had to fabricate the whole thing in case anyone tried to validate it. Not very likely, but it was a possibility he hadn't wanted to over look. 

He trudged to his bedroom and tumbled onto his bed. Stiles didn't bother removing his clothes. It was just his red hoodie and jeans. Besides, he needed sleep. Right after he figured out how he was going to get out of the mess he'd started. If he went with Derek, he would have to actively track the Black Fox, while leading Derek on wild goose chase, while covering his own tracks. 

He wasn't sure he could do all of that. He already had trouble sleeping, that situation wouldn't help one bit. And he wasn't a fan of planes, but there was no choice. God, Stiles should have read those stupid papers. He was such an idiot. He berated himself even though he knew he would have signed it no matter what. He couldn't have backed out after reading the terms. That would have been too suspicious. 

He just had to suck it up. 

Speaking of sucking... Stiles thought of Derek and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. He could ogle the man all he wanted but there was no way he could make a move on the agent hunting him down. No matter how good his butt had looked in his jeans. And that leather jacket hadn't hurt him either.

Stiles knew where the train of thought was going and he refused to entertain it. He needed to stay strong. Letting his hand drop beneath his jeans would only make the whole thing worse. Stiles would want him more afterwards. He would imagine pushing Derek against a wall, taking off his clothes. 

He told himself Derek wasn't interested. The man had practically flown across the room after their near kiss. He hadn't been able to look Stiles in the eye. He obviously regret leaning in. But then Stiles' stupid brain would remind him of that look Derek got as he leaned in. The one that made him think Derek was actually attracted and had been ready to go for it. 

Stiles eventually gave up and let his hand slide south.


	3. When Your Heart Stops Beating

He was woken way too early by the sound of his phone ringing. Stiles threw out an arm, reaching for his bedside table, but only got air. He reluctantly flopped out of bed and began feeling around the floor for his cell phone. He couldn't imagine who would wake him so early. It just wasn't right. He bit back a groan. The ringing stopped and he was about to sink back into the cool comfort of his bed, until it began again. 

Stiles finally peeled open his crusty eyes and took in his room. The phone was lit up through the pocket of a pair of jeans across the room. The number was unknown. It was probably Derek. The clock read 6:00 a.m. Derek probably booked the earliest flight possible just to be a dick. That sounded about right. 

"What?" He asked groggily, stretching out on his bedroom floor and praying that Derek was somehow canceling their trip. 

"I'm going to be parked in front of your house in an hour. Pack for a week and don't make me wait," Derek said gruffly before hanging up. 

Stiles stared at his phone for a few minutes before the words got through to his clouded brain. Derek was going to be waiting outside his house in a short while and stiles was still wearing his clothes from yesterday. That wasn't even taking into consideration the way he knew he had to smell. He couldn't spend a prolonged amount of time in a small space with Derek Hale when he smelled like something had died in his pants. 

The sleepy fog was then replaced by panic as he clumsily discarded his clothing and phone on the floor, rushing towards his small bathroom. Stiles had never been a punctual person, so it was nothing new. He brushed his teeth with one hand while he attempted to lather the shampoo in his hair with the other. He spit, while in the shower, and grabbed his sponge.

Once that was done, the real challenge was getting dressed. All of his drawers were hanging open and Stiles had no idea what was even remotely clean and what hadn't seen the inside of the washing machine since the civil war. Thankfully there was an unopened pack of boxer briefs lying under his bed. After attempting to choose fashionable outfits, not to impress anyone or anything, he settled on mountains of plaid shirts and jeans. 

Stiles added his red hoodie for luck. It was stupid, he knew, but Derek had almost kissed him while he'd been wearing it, and even though he knew that couldn't happen, Stiles was a fan of tempting fate. He just couldn't help but walk the line, see how far he could go. His whole childhood consisted of him pushing his father to see what he could get away with. Everything. 

Stiles added his computer, charger, toiletries, and a few candy bars before zipping up his duffel bag. He was ready to go. 20 minutes early. Just enough time to make a dozen cups of coffee. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep on the way to the air port. That was prime talking time. He could get to know Derek, maybe get on his good side so they could have some fun when the case was over. 

Derek was right on time, which kind of made Stiles wonder if he always was, and how he would react if he was ever late for something. He was already completely wired, so he had to take a few deep breaths before he could open the door. Derek was in an outfit similar to the one he'd worn before, and sunglasses. Kinda douchey. 

"Ready?" He asked. Derek didn't look tired or angry or excited or anything. He was just there. It was kind of creepy, and Stiles kept some distance between them as he grabbed his bag and locked his door. 

"Yupp." Stiles said cheerfully, hoping to get him in the mood for a trip he didn't want to go on himself. "So how's everything going?" he asked awkwardly. It occurred to him that he had no idea what to ask Derek about. He was no good at making new friends, he hadn't had to do it since high school. 

Derek turned his head just an inch towards Stiles and grunted. The noise could have literally meant anything. But before Stiles could annoy him about it, the man was walking briskly towards the stairs. Clearly someone wasn't a morning person. Fine, he could play at that game. They would just sit in silence the whole trip. 

That lasted about until they got outside and Derek opened the trunk of his car for Stiles to put his bag in. "Oh sorry, there must have been some sort of misunderstanding. I'm taking baby," Stiles explained pointing to the faded blue jeep a few spaces away. Derek just scoffed. 

"We're taking my car. If you take yours then you're only going to have to pay more for the parking at the air port. Besides, mine is way more reliable than that piece of junk," Derek argued. He left the open trunk and climbed into the front seat like he was so sure Stiles would follow suit. 

"Don't talk about her like that. Besides, I could never leave her behind," Stiles walked around Derek's car and headed for his. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to start the trip on bad terms, but Stiles was not going to leave the Jeep. 

Then he heard the sound of a window rolling down. "You know this is technically impeding the investigation," Derek called after him. 

Stiles froze. 

Derek came off as someone who enforced the rules. And he definitely didn't seem like a guy who bluffed. But something about that smug tone of his made Stiles keep walking. He wouldn't arrest Stiles because he needed him for the investigation. He couldn't help from a prison cell. So he got in his Jeep, nodded to Derek, and sped out of the parking lot. He knew he was pushing it, and Derek was probably going to get back at him in some other way, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

\-----

Next time, Derek told himself as he started his engine, I'm going to work with someone who isn't so smart. And as much as he wanted to smash something because he couldn't even get a kid to listen to him, he was kind of relieved. The fact that Stiles was driving alone meant Derek was doing the same. So he wouldn't have to deal with Stiles talking, or tapping, or being unfairly attractive. It meant he had an hour to prepare himself for sitting on a plane next to Stiles for 6 hours.

Derek had decided the night before that he would get his ridiculous hormones out of the way and act like an adult around Stiles whatever the cost. He had originally planned to sleep through the flight, but for some reason he didn't trust that kid around his sleeping form. So plan B had been to get a fully charged ipod. He just hoped Stiles could take a hint. 

From the caffeine he'd seemed to guzzle that morning, Derek guessed it wasn't going to be an easy flight no matter what he did. The sight of the fidgety boy did help his conscience. It lead him to believe that Stiles had coffee filled all nighters all the time and the night before had not been as bad as it had looked. Stiles probably had bags under his eyes all the time. It was hard to believe he ever slept.

Derek's phone started ringing, pulling him from his thoughts. For a moment he thought it could be Stiles, but he knew even Stiles wasn't so brazen. He knew Derek was going to be pissed and he wouldn't call just to rub it in Derek's face. He hoped. When he was able to pull the cell out of his pocket at a red light, he sighed in resignation. It was Laura. 

"Where are you? I thought we were going to get breakfast today," Laura asked. But her voice sounded off, like she was on the verge of tears. "A whole bunch of your stuff is gone and you didn't call, and I swear to God if you ran again I wi-" oh. 

"Laura it's just a business trip, I'll be back in a few days. I'm sorry I forgot to call," Derek apologized as sincerely as he could. He knew what she'd been thinking and all he wanted was to go back home and put her at ease. "I'm not doing that ever again, I promise." Laura sniffled on the other end and he knew she would be fine in a few minutes. 

He'd been stupid not to call her first. When ever he left without telling Laura, she always thought it was for good. It was his fault she was like that. When their parents had just died, Derek disappeared for a few years. Laura hadn't had anyone but Peter to lean on and that would always be his fault. He just wished that she could get to a place where she didn't immediately think he'd left her. 

"You better not," she threatened, sounding perfectly fine. "Why the unexpected trip?" She continued. Derek heard shuffling and groaned. She was in his apartment. 

"We got a lead. Please tell me you're at your house," he pleaded uselessly. But Derek had been so sure he'd locked everything up tight. 

"I could if you want me to, but it would be a lie," she teased. 

"So how exactly did you get in my house...?"

"You gave me a copy of your key, remember?" No, he didn't because that never happened. She probably stole his and made her own copy again. He really needed to move far away. It sounded like she turned on the television and suddenly Derek really wanted to turn around. 

"Please don't buy a dozen movies on my on demand." That, he knew, would also be useless. He would have forty dollars of fees when he got home at least. He didn't mind Laura making herself at home, he just wished she would be a little more courteous about it all. 

"Too late," Laura said with a laugh. "Well I have to go, Channing is waiting for me." She hung up abruptly and Derek dropped his phone into the middle console like he'd been burned. 

He attempted rubbing his temples while driving, but that didn't work out so well for him. Instead he just turned on the radio and blasted some classic rock station. At least it was loud enough that he didn't have to worry about thinking. The last thing Derek wanted to do was think about how confused Stiles made him feel, and how guilty his sister made him every time he looked at her. 

He just wanted to focus on work for once. 

\-----

Derek had been waiting at the front entrance of the airport for 15 minutes before he spotted Stiles jogging towards him, bag slamming against his hip repeatedly. It was odd, but it seemed to him that Stiles was a person who was constantly in motion. He'd never met any one like that, so full of energy. Except he also came with a list of obnoxious habits as long as the Nile. 

But he tossed aside the observation in place of anger. He couldn't just let Stiles think that it was okay not to listen to him. Derek had the badge and the gun, so he was in charge. When the boy reached him, he looked slightly apologetic, but not much. He probably didn't even think he'd done anything wrong.

"Sorry, she had to take a break for a few minutes so I had to pull over. But I'm here in one piece so that's good. Really there's no reason at all to be angry with me so lets go get on that plane," Stiles rambled, looking slightly nervous. So he did know what he'd done. 

"You'd better hope we aren't late for our plane or you're going to have to worry about a lot more than that stunt you pulled back there," Derek threatened. They weren't going to be late though. They still had plenty of time. Derek just wanted to see him sweat it, and he felt too drained to deal with Stiles at the moment. 

As they went through line after line, Stiles twitched anxiously. He seemed genuinely worried about what Derek would do if they missed the flight. It was probably wrong, but it felt really good to Derek to have that power over him. Derek was beginning to think that he needed to see a therapist about these things. Nah.

"Yes," Derek heard Stiles whisper to himself when they reached the boarding area. The plane wasn't even there yet and there was no boarding yet. 

"Lucky you," Derek muttered, dropping into one of the uncomfortable seats and pulling out a book. 

Stiles nodded and swallowed. He pulled out his computer and began typing away.

\-----

The trip didn't go very up hill from there. When they were boarding the plane, Stiles' excitement beat out his hesitation to piss off Derek any worse. The entire time they were boarding, Stiles went on and on about how he'd never been on a plane and that he'd always wanted to travel but had never gotten around to it. Honestly, it would have been endearing if Derek hadn't been trying so hard to dislike him.

He'd never seen anyone go on and on the way Stiles could. He wasn't even put off by Derek's lack of responses. He just kept talking until they'd gotten to their seats in the last row. Derek had specially requested those. He liked to be able to see everyone. Maybe it was 'unhealthy' but it made him nervous having people behind him. Then Stiles wanted the window seat. 

"Oh come on, you've been on a million flights. Just give me this one," Stiles argued.

"You'd be an idiot to want the window seat on your first flight," Derek accused him. He was kind of an idiot. 

"You just want it for yourself. Didn't you ever learn to share in kindergarten?" Stiles asked, crossing his arms. He looked so determined Derek knew he wasn't going to win it. He just sighed and waved a hand for Stiles to go in. He grinned widely and took the seat. 

"Thanks, maybe you aren't so bad after all," he joked, already staring out the window. 

Derek just wanted the talking to stop. It was harder to dislike Stiles when he was talking and arguing and smiling. He shoved in his headphones and chose his My Chemical Romance playlist. They were loud enough that Derek was sure he wouldn't hear Stiles if the boy started talking again. Unfortunately that lasted all of thirty seconds. Stiles had pulled out one of his headphones before the first song had even ended.

"What are you listening to?" Stiles asked, sticking one of Derek's headphones in his own ear. "I love these guys!" He nodded his head with the music and didn't say anything else. Derek considered it a win so he didn't take his music back. It was actually kind of nice for a few minutes, them sitting in silence and just listening to music. 

Then the plane began to move. Stiles tensed and his eyes flew open. Derek hadn't even noticed they were closed. The fear was clear in his eyes and Derek wondered if he'd been scared earlier as well. As it made it's slow trek across the runway, Stiles' hand flew up and grabbed Derek's arm. Derek stiffened, but let it slide. Stiles held his arm until they were well into the air. And when ever there was even the slightest bit of turbulence. 

If Derek was being honest with himself, he would say he liked that Stiles was holding on to him. But he was trying to stop himself from getting attached, so the second that Stiles let go of him, Derek pulled his arm away and plugged in both of his headphones. He just needed to maintain distance, even if Stiles did look freaked to not have something to hold. But he didn't call Derek out on it. 

Stiles grabbed both of the armrests tightly and stared out the window quietly. When Derek was sure he wouldn't turn around, he glanced at the veins nearly popping out of Stiles' skin. He holding on for dear life and Derek felt bad about it, but he had his own problems and baggage. He couldn't afford to take on another person's when he was so close to his goal.

The flight attendant passed by and gazed sympathetically at Stiles but kept moving. It was just her job to make sure everyone had put on their seat belts. She wasn't in charge of stupid kids that thought they wouldn't freak out as first time fliers. And neither was Derek. He had to protect him, but he didn't have to hold Stile's hand while he did it. 

Thankfully, Stiles fell asleep about an hour into the flight and Derek was able to unclench his fists. He didn't have to feel bad if he was sleeping. But then that brought up the problem of not getting attached. While Stiles was out, Derek couldn't help but glance at him briefly. Then look a little longer. Then blatantly stare. Because how could he not. Stiles was kind of beautiful, and when he was asleep, he wasn't talking. 

Were it not for the flight attendant giving him funny looks, Stiles probably would have woken to Derek's stare, but he pulled his gaze away after her third round and began playing farmville on his phone. It was a guilty pleasure of his. He knew it was entirely pointless and time consuming and stupid, but he couldn't bring himself to stop checking on his farm. Derek blamed his sister for introducing him to the game. 

"That's going to rot away your brain cells," Derek jumped at the voice just over his shoulder. Stiles was staring at his phone in obvious disapproval. Derek swallowed his surprise and turned his gaze back to his phone, ignoring the kid who was suddenly in his space. Or at least, he was trying to. "Seriously," Stiles continued when Derek didn't respond. "You should try something more mentally stimulating, like Sudoku."

Stiles plucked the phone from Derek's hand and began typing away at it. Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and tried very hard to not engage. But then Stiles handed the phone back and his game was gone. Instead it was just boxes and a handful of scattered numbers. "What the hell is this?" he asked, surprised by how bothered he was by the whole situation. 

"Sudoku. It's a game. Honestly, it's like you don't even listen when I talk," Stiles complained, crossing his arms like a child.

Derek stared down at it for a few seconds but he really didn't get it, so he closed the app and pulled farmville back up. Stiles sighed loudly at this but Derek refused to reward him for acting like that. But when he peeked over, Stiles was slumped in his seat, pouting and looking like someone had killed his puppy. Derek was a complete idiot, and he knew it, but he pulled Sudoku back up and nudged Stiles. 

"So how do you play this?" He asked reluctantly. Stiles perked up instantly in a way that made Derek feel played, and leaned over his shoulder to show him.

The plane ride went well after that. Once Derek got the hang of Sudoku, he became determined to beat Stiles, high score, which was 1:30. Stiles scoffed at the very idea and switched between talking at him about whatever came to mind while Derek tried to tune him out, playing on his own phone, and taking oddly spaced short naps. His sleep schedule was troubling at best. 

Unfortunately, as hard as Derek tried, some of what Stiles babbled about made it through to him. Like the fact that his best friend was finally getting married in the spring, and that he'd always wanted to ride a motor cycle but had never gotten the chance, and that he'd had that awful red hoodie since high school. Plus a hundred other small facts and stories that Derek couldn't block out. 

By the time the plane was nearing the Maine airport, Derek probably knew as much about the kid as some of his close friends. He never mentioned his family but Derek forced himself not to ask any questions. He had gotten his Sudoku time down to three and a half minutes, but that was the best he could do. He lied to himself and insisted that he would have done much better if stiles hadn't been talking then snoring his ear off.

Then there was the process of landing. They had already been too friendly on the plane, despite Derek not saying a word, so he did not offer his arm as the plane slowly sank beneath the clouds. Stiles was once again gripping the arms of his chair for dear life. Derek focused all of his attention onto turning off his phone and trying not to look at the distressed boy. 

His fear switched to impatience, however, the moment the wheels hit the asphalt. Stiles immediately unclipped his seat belt and began searching for things on the airplane runway that were different from the ones in California. "I've never even been out of Beacon Hills before," Stiles said for the thousandth time as people ahead of them began the the slow shuffle off of the plane. 

It was usually boring, the waiting, but it was boring and stressful with Stiles there. Derek could feel the nervous energy poring off of him in waves, and he felt like any second the kid was going to forgo policy and jump over Derek's lap then mow down everyone in the isle just so he could get outside. It was also kind of cute how excited he was but Derek didn't acknowledge that thought. 

When there it was finally their turn to leave, Stiles did jump over Derek and go first, completely unapologetic. He rushed down the isle, leaving behind his red hoodie. Derek grabbed it for him, knowing the chilly November air would get to him quickly. Derek himself Zipped up his leather jacket before stepping into the airport. 

He fought a smile when he caught sight of Stiles a few feet away, bouncing in place probably to keep warm. Derek tossed him his sweater and kept walking towards the baggage claim. Stiles was struggling with it as he hurried to catch up. Derek considered slowing down, but where was the fun in that. Besides, Stiles was speechless and that was to be treasured. 

Derek grabbed all of their bags and lead the way outside. Outside the trees were already a rich orange and the sky was filled with clouds. The temperature was probably in the 40's but Derek didn't mind it. He had a high tolerance for cold weather and he really loved the outdoors. It took Stiles clearing his throat loudly to draw his attention. He was shivering slightly, and Derek felt a twinge of guilt for making him wait. 

Derek hailed a cab and ushered him in. He helped the young cabbie put their duffel bags in the trunk. Once Derek climbed in, the heat had been turned on and it was comfortably warm. Stile's face was glued to the window like he'd never seen orange leaves before. Derek just sighed and hoped the trip didn't turn into a vacation. 

He leaned over the middle console and fed the teenage boy the address of their hotel and the nearest car dealership. The driver nodded and turned the radio on low. He sped out of the lane so quickly Derek was thrown into his seat, but besides that he looked like a very responsible driver. That hair in his eyes didn't make Derek nervous at all. 

"Stiles, pay attention," Derek scolded, snapping his fingers at the boy. Stiles looked over at him but made sure to glare. He probably wasn't a fan of being snapped at but Derek could hardly bring himself to care. They were on a schedule and he only had a few days to get a lead before he would be removed. "I'm going to drop you off at the hotel and then I'm going to go pick up a rental car. You need to stay put, stay out of trouble, and try not to draw attention to yourself. Understand?" 

"What do you think I'm going to do? Set the place on fire?" Stiles rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. "Don't worry, I'll behave," he grumbled. Derek nodded to himself and pulled out his wallet. He didn't want to leave Stiles too much or too little...

"This is for lunch and to pay the kid when he drops you at the hotel," Derek instructed, holding out two hundred dollars. "The rest is in case you need anything else while I'm gone."

Stiles didn't hesitate to pocket the money. "Sweet, room service is calling my name," he said, rubbing his hands together. Derek rubbed his jaw and turned towards the window. Stiles was definitely going to find a way to blow all of it before he got back. 

\-----

The hotel was pretty damn swanky. It was tons of stories taller than any of the small buildings he'd seen on the way. Which were adorable. It seemed that Stiles had picked the perfect small town, because they didn't even seem to have a starbucks. And you had to drive all they way to the next town over just to get to a mall. 

After getting dropped off by that guy, who Stiles left a generous tip, he dragged both of their bags inside. His alone was manageable, but Stiles was completely convinced that Derek's had been packed full of bricks. Bricks and that he carried for fun, because no one got to be his size unless they enjoyed manual labor. 

The lobby was huge with a red carpet that every one probably insisted on calling maroon because it was so much classier, and gold accents every where. A huge front desk dominated the floor and there were six elevators, three on each side, lining the walls that lead to it. The man behind the desk didn't look up at Stiles even when he cleared his throat loudly. He just typed away at his computer. 

He had one of those curly mustaches that made him look like a dick and his head was kind of shaped like a peanut. Maybe that was why he looked so sour. He was also probably forced to wear that suit, and Stiles would be pretty bummed if he had to wear a suit to work every day too. But still, it was kind of his job to receive guests. 

"Hey, I'm here to check in," Stiles finally said louder than he'd meant to. The room echoed. The receptionist looked up at him with a withering expression before going back to his computer. It was the first time Stiles had ever hated one.

"Are you here for the Hale-Stilinski reservation?" He asked with a disappointed tone. 

"Yeah," Stiles said, dropping his bags. His shoulders felt on the verge of dislocation.

"Hale or Stilinski?" He asked huffing and crossing his arms. 

Stiles mimicked him. "Stilinski." 

The man scowled and typed something up in his computer. "Early," he muttered like it was a bad thing. He pulled out a key card and placed it on the counter. "I need to see a form of I.d." Stiles nodded before opening his bag and digging in. His wallet had to be in there somewhere. He started pulling things out and dropping them onto the surrounding carpet. After unpacking and repacking twice, he found the object in question in his back pocket.

He laughed sheepishly as the man glared at him. Maybe he'd be more friendly if he wasn't bald, Stiles thought as he handed over his drivers licence. The man stared at it longer than was probably necessary, but eventually he waved Stiles through. "We don't tolerate riff raff in this facility, so watch yourself boy," he threatened as Stiles heaved his bags back onto his shoulders and headed for the elevators. 

That seemed like overkill. Maybe he needed to get laid. But that just made Stiles think that he needed to get laid, because he definitely did. It had been way too long since his last go around and his partner was way too hot for abstinence. Especially if they were going to be staying in the same hotel room. Stiles smiled at the thought of it. He was sure he could seduce Derek. He was irresistible. 

Their room was on the top floor, probably not good if there happened to be a fire, and at the very end of the hall. Stiles' hopes were dashed as he took in the room. One bed. The bastard had gotten separate rooms. That was a flagrant waste of tax payers money and Stiles was very disappointed in the way the government was wasting it.

He also really wanted to get laid. 

With a sigh, Stiles threw himself onto his bed and pulled out the cash Derek had given him. If he couldn't have mind blowing sex, he could at least order room service and plan out his next move. Now that they were in Andover, Stiles had to figure out how he was going to keep the wild goose chase going. He had to look up all of the public places that offered free wifi and he also needed to find out where this fake hacker would be going next. Now that he knew he would be tagging along, Stiles thought maybe somewhere closer to California. 

And soon he would need to start considering the endgame. No matter what he did in the next few weeks, he couldn't get caught. No matter what, Stiles was not going to prison. He would not become the idiot that hackers used as a cautionary tale. Even if he had to send Derek on the chase forever, or drop off the case, Stiles would survive. 

His stomach growled and he laughed. First he needed sleep. He hadn't eaten anything all day and it was already three in the afternoon. He grabbed the phone off of the bedside table and dialed the room service number as he scanned the menu. It was pretty basic, but it had everything he needed to be happy. Stiles ordered Curly fries, a chocolate milkshake, two bacon burgers, and a slice of cheesecake. It was a meal for kings. 

Derek had told him to stay put, so naturally, he wanted to explore, but he decided to wait until he had food in his belly. Instead Stiles scrolled through the channels, searching for something decent. He landed on a show that was airing it's first season from the first episode. Something called Teen Wolf. The graphics were less than perfect and it was pretty much just a bunch of guys running around without their shirts on, but Stiles was instantly addicted. He almost didn't hear when room service knocked on his door. 

When he opened the door, a young, pretty maid was waiting in the hall with silver a cart holding his carefully arranged lunch. Her skirt seemed like it couldn't have been regulation length, and her name tag read Krista. "Stilinski?" She asked as she placed it in the center of the room. 

"Yes, this is perfect, thanks," Stiles said, handing her the rest of Derek's cash. She totally deserved it for pushing that cart all the way to his room. It looked super heavy. Besides, she would probably really appreciate it, where Derek would just grunt and walk off if Stiles presented him with change. 

"No, thank you," Krista said as she counted the bills. "This is going to go into my moving out fund," she explained, stuffing the cash into her bra. Krista left grinning and swinging her brown pony tail. 

Stiles congratulated himself on his good deed and set up his lunch on his bed so he could keep watching Teen Wolf. He told himself he would figure out his end game strategy later. He never got to just relax anymore. He'd been so focused on keeping his job at Best Buy, finding the next company to hit, and occasionally going out with Scott and his friends that he hadn't taken time for himself in a while. 

He was thinking that as he fell asleep a midst an array of empty plates.


	4. Ignite

It had taken Derek far longer than he'd anticipated to get his hands on a rental car. He'd filled out his application online, so he should have been able to just show up and pick up the car, but apparently nothing could ever be that simple. The counter agent was hell bent on Derek getting every single perk and extra. All he wanted was the basic insurance. He was a safe driver, and there wouldn't be any unforeseen circumstances.

So after Derek forcefully informed him that there would be no extra tack ons, he got the hell out of there with his car. Nearly an hour and a half had passed and Derek was sure that his stomach had already begun eating it's own lining. But he was very particular about what he put in his body, so he stopped by the grocery store and picked up a few healthier options than Wendy's.

Then, believe it or not, he got lost. The smallest town in the state and he got lost. The problem was all of the stupid back roads that lead in and out of the city and criss crossed all over the place. Derek had to ask for directions three different times before he was finally able to find the hotel. And even then he had to deal with finding parking. He didn't make it into the lobby until 7:00 at night. 

"Excuse me, sir," Derek walked up to the front desk. "I made a reservation under Hale. Stilinski checked in a few hours ago," he explained.

The man scowled slightly. "Yes, I had the pleasure of meeting his acquaintance already. He seemed like a trouble maker," the man added, typing at his computer. 

"Sorry about that, he really has no manners," Derek excused. Stiles had been in the state a few hours and already he had enemies. Idiot.

"Yes, well, what can you do?" He offered Derek a half smile and slid a key card across the counter. "Enjoy your stay."

Derek smiled pleasantly as he could manage and took the card. "Thank you."

The elevator ride up was slow, and Derek was feeling the day weigh on him as he stepped out of it. All he wanted was to lie down and order room service. Then he would fall asleep after eating too much. But first he had to check on Stiles and make sure that the kid hadn't blown anything up. Okay, maybe he wasn't that bad. 

Derek's door was the one just before Stiles' so he peeked in to make sure that they'd gotten his room right. The he needed to get his bag from Stiles' room. Derek closed his own door behind him and immediately noticed that Stiles' door was open a crack. His hand flew to his hip where his gun was strapped in and his mind went to the worst possible scenarios. 

Anything could have happened. He could have been killed, or taken, or hurt. Derek shouldn't have left him alone. The Black Fox probably caught wind that they were getting close and decided to up his game. Derek couldn't help but berate himself as he slowly lifted his gun and eased the door open. The first thing he heard was a commercial for tampons. 

Then there was Stiles lying on the bed, surrounded by empty plates. 

Derek let out a half hearted chuckle and let his gun slide back into its holster. Of coarse no one had taken him, no one wanted that loud mouth. And Derek was surprised he hadn't expected to find that door open. Stiles seemed to have no idea how dangerous the world was. Or his specifically, because you definitely didn't tend to make friends in law enforcement.

He took in the empty plates and knew for a fact Stiles hadn't saved him a penny. And he kind of didn't care. Especially when the kid was just lying there all cute and asleep, snoring softly. Derek allowed himself the one tender thought before he schooled his features. He couldn't get used to thinking of Stiles like that. Like anything but a partner. The business kind.

He cleaned up all of the plates, set them on the tray, and gently lifted stiles into his arms. Stiles jerked slightly then stilled. He froze, halting his breath. Stiles' breathing stayed even and steady, and he was warm against Derek's chest. It felt nicer than he was willing to admit, so he allowed himself a moment to enjoy it. He ignored the way Stiles pressed his face into Derek's jacket. 

Than he realized what would happen if Stiles woke while in that position. It would be incredibly awkward and then Derek would have ruined his whole act in a matter of minutes. Besides, he knew that they'd almost kissed before, and it could happen again. All Stiles had to do was bat those stupid eyelashes and Derek would do anything he asked. He needed to focus. 

Quickly, he slipped Stiles beneath the covers, grabbed his bag, and backed out of the room. After shutting the door behind him, Derek took a deep breath and went in his room. He needed food and sleep. In the morning he would be able to think much more clearly. He would be able to focus on his work and ignore the obvious distractions. Distractions that were way too young for him, he told himself. 

\-----

Derek woke at five o'clock in the morning on the dot. He got dressed, basketball shorts, a t shirt, and sneaker, had breakfast downstairs on the lobby, eggs, bacon, and a waffle, then went out for his morning jog. He familiarized himself with the area and was back at the hotel by seven. Then he took a quick shower and dressed in his jeans, boots, t-shirt, and his jacket.

He attached his gun and holster as an after thought. The clock read 7:30. Derek settled onto his bed and tried to relax, because he knew that Stiles wasn't awake. The kid would probably be at his door once he was ready. The relaxing lasted all of 5 seconds before he gave up and went to Stiles' room. He had the master key, so he didn't bother to knock.

Stiles was spread out across his bed, his covers on the floor in a corner. He was drooling on his pillow. Derek groaned and assessed how he could approach it. He could gently wake Stiles by nudging him, or he could shove him off the bed and see if he screamed. Derek didn't even have to think about it. He gently shoved Stiles off of his bed and watched as the boy flailed on his way down. 

His head poked up immediately, and his glare landed on Derek. "Was that really necessary?" But Derek could hardly take him seriously when his hair was sticking up at those angles. 

"We should get going," he suggested, crossing his arms. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and stood up, untangling himself from the sheets. "Of course, your word is law." 

Derek watched on as Stiles scrambled about, grabbing clothes and rushing into the bathroom. The shower turned on and Derek decided Stiles would probably just take long to spite him, so he stretched out on the bed and folded his arms behind his head. Stiles didn't seem to put much effort into appearance, so Derek doubted he used any kind of product, but regardless, the bed smelled like him. It was distinctly Stiles.

Derek sat up with a start when he realized he liked the smell a little too much. Stiles was literally infecting him. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the bathroom door, waiting for Stiles to come out. It was about 20 minutes, but Derek didn't move a muscle. God forbid he catch sight of something else that gave him another reason to like that kid.

"So where are we off to first?" Stiles asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, steam rolling out behind him on waves. 

Derek stood stiffly and crossed his arms. "That's up to you. You're the resident hacker, I'm just the muscle," he explained, grabbing the laptop that was sticking out of one of the duffles and handing it to Stiles. The boy visibly tensed before taking it. 

"Right, of coarse I can do that," he offered Derek a half smile, and moved towards the bed. 

Derek watched him suspiciously as he settled down and turned on the computer. He thought maybe Stiles looked a little nervous, but he couldn't decide if it was because the job was still so new, or because he was going to crack under the pressure. For Derek's sake, he hoped Stiles got over it and pulled through. There wasn't any room for failure. 

Derek felt awkward just standing in the middle of the hotel room with his arms crossed, but he knew there was no way he was sitting next to Stiles on the bed. So instead, he settled on an arm chair in the corner and pulled out his phone. He played farmville for a while, but eventually he shifted to Sudoku, kind of eager to beat Stiles' score so he could rub it in his face. 

It was another hour before there was even a peep from the computer nerd over there. He all of a sudden perked up and began typing away furiously at his keyboard. Then a look of horror flashed across Stiles' face before he sagged. Derek curiously stood and glanced over his shoulder. It was just a black screen. Nothing to get excited over. 

"Did your battery die?" He finally asked after Stiles failed to do anything but stare at the blank screen. 

"No," he muttered, shutting his computer gingerly. "It didn't die. He crashed my computer. Just wrecked it. He's good." Stiles looked like he was almost smiling. In awe. 

Derek took a step back in case Stiles started swinging. People in shock didn't tend to think before acting, and Stiles looked like he was going to snap any minute. "So back to square one then." Derek said cautiously. Maybe this was a tiny set back, but they could still pick it up. 

Stiles scoffed. "Oh Derek, you have no faith." He stood and began putting on his shoes, and Derek tried very hard to be patient while waiting for Stiles to elaborate. He failed. 

"Stiles, get to it or I'm going to make you get to it," he growled, taking a step towards the boy who was currently tying his shoes. Stiles hopped back about half a foot and fell on his ass in the process. 

"Fine, fine, jeez. No patience at all," he muttered. "I got the address of where he went online last, but I couldn't get a lock on his IP address."

Derek nodded. That was good enough. If he had an address, he could find out who he needed to point a gun at to get answers. "Great, lets go," he insisted, heading for the door. 

Stiles rolled his eyes but followed. 

\-----

Stiles tried to start conversation, he really did, but Derek just wasn't having it. They would stop at a red light, Stiles would ask what he liked to do in his free time besides shoot things, and Derek would ignore him until green. He was kind of hurt. Stiles had thought he'd had a shot with hot CIA agent before, and he'd been really excited after that almost kiss, but clearly Derek had gotten that under control. 

Stiles was persistent though. He wasn't about to give up over something as trivial as the other person not being interested. And who could really define interested. Maybe Derek's way of flirting was giving the object of his affections the cold shoulder. It was a really fuckin awful way of doing it, but Stiles was really a judgmental person. Only on days ending in -y. 

Lucky for him though, he had a back up. "So how's your sister?" He asked, staring out the opposite window and trying to look as nonchallant as possible. He could see Derek stiffen out of the corner of his eye. 

"How did you know I had a sister?" He finally asked. But he sounded less resigned, and more pissed. Like he knew Stiles had looked him up and found out a whole lot of bad about him. 

"Ahh he speaks," Stiles responded, avoiding the question. 

"Stiles," he growled, fists tightening on the wheel. 

"I may or may not have looked up a few tid bits about you," Stiles mumbled hoping he didn't push him out of the moving car. Derek looked livid when Stiles peeked. He really did growl that time. 

"My files are locked up tight. I could have you put in jail. For decades." He scolded, His knuckles were really white. Stiles was actually thinking maybe he shouldn't have brought that up. He wouldn't last a day in prison. 

"You wouldn't do that," he said weakly, "Right?" Stiles glanced over once more, and Derek still looked pissed but slightly less so. 

"It depends on what you know."

Stiles shrugged. "Just that you have one sister, you live alone, and you work with your uncle. I figured you changed your name, because I couldn't find anything about your family or before you graduated." Stiles also knew everything else about Derek Hale, but he chose to keep that to himself. He probably had a shot at getting out of the situation with out jail. He didn't need to push his luck.

"Good, it's none of your damn business," he grumbled, loosening his grip on the road. 

"So does that mean a certain hacker isn't going to federal prison...?" Stiles looked up at Derek with a jutted out lip, but he didn't look over for more than half a second. Derek didn't do more than grunt. 

"Awe, it's 'cause you like me," he teased, looking out the window. The silence on Derek's part was all the encouragement he needed.

\-----

The address led them to what had to be the most run down structure in the neighborhood. The weeds had completely taken over the front yard, and there probably wasn't a force on earth that could up lift them all. The picket white fence was faded and missing more than half of it's posts. The walkway that lead up to the door was cracked and split in several places, and Derek almost didn't want Stiles to step on it, because he could see him tripping repeatedly. 

The actual house was an awful faded blue, mostly chipped away. The roof was missing most of it's tiles, and the satellite on top of it was bent in an awkward angle. All of the windows were shuttered but the shutters were hanging off and battered as if someone had taken a bat to them. All in all, Derek was pleased with it. It was either the home of a criminal, or a junkie. 

When they got out of the car, he watched Stiles take in the two houses on either side. They were both immaculate in their mowed lawns and clean porches. He scoffed. "Inconspicuous."

Derek chuckled and ignored the way Stiles looked up at him with overly surprised eyes. Yes, he'd been ignoring the kid and acting like a dick, but he was allowed to have a sense of humor. He cleared his throat and began walking up the path, positioning himself in front of Stiles instinctively. Just in case shit hit the fan. 

When he knocked, there was a skittering sound coming from the inside of the house. Then a loud creaking. The door opened slowly, revealing a thin, skinny kid wearing baggy clothes. He hair was a curly mop and and he wore glasses too big for his face. He sized up Derek and Stiles and leaned against the door frame looking awful cocky for his size.

"What can I help you boys with?" He asked, looking at them over his glasses and crossing his arms. Derek thought he very much looked like someone who could be the Black Fox, and he felt the excitement build in him. But he did look a little young. 

"Well first, you can step outside," Derek suggested, lifting the edge of his jacket to show his badge and gun. The shrimpy kid didn't even hesitate. He pulled a gun from behind his back and aimed it at Derek's head. 

"Or, you could get your narc ass out of here before I put a bullet in it." He grinned innocently. Derek heart skipped a beat. But it wasn't fear for his own life, he'd been taught early on how to handle those situations. Stiles was behind him, and he definitely couldn't survive a bullet would. Especially if Derek was already dead.

"Or, alternate idea, we could put away our toys and try playing nice," Stiles added nervously from behind Derek. Derek stiffened as the kid took notice of Stiles. Derek shifted his footing slightly, but the kid was still watching him. 

"Hey hey, no moving. I don't want to have to wash your brains out of this outfit." He threatened. Stiles gripped the back of his jacket. That was when Derek had decided he'd had enough of that. 

He shot out his arm and slammed down on the top of the gun. The kid dropped it and Derek caught it easily with his other hand. He put on the safety and tossed it in the grass a few feet away. It wasn't they way he'd been taught in the academy, but he didn't have time to do it by the book. He'd been kind of worried about the unarmed civilian behind him. 

The kid looked up at him in shock, then turned to rush inside. Derek hadn't let him take three steps before he had him pinned against the wall, arms crossed behind his back. Derek held him in place with one hand and reached in his back pocket with the other. He grabbed his keys and tossed them to Stiles. 

"Get my cuffs from the glove compartment," he ordered. Thank god, for once the Stiles listened to him. 

"You know you could be gentler," Shrimp muttered as Derek tightened his grip. 

Stiles laughed from down the path. "I don't think that word is in his dictionary," he jabbed, retrieving a set of hand cuffs. 

"Hey, people who talk to gunmen don't get to have an opinion. And I can be gentle," Derek argued, putting the cuffs on the kid. 

Stiles laughed out loud that time. "Come on. I bet babies cry when you pass them on the street." Derek frowned and shoved the kid down the path. But he was looking at Stiles who looked sure of himself. 

"Babies love me," Derek insisted. He stooped and picked up the gun he'd discarded, sticking it in his belt. They would want it. 

"This is riveting, but could you just put me in jail already," Shrimp interjected. 

"No you probably just think they do," Stiles said. "You probably talk to them normally too." He stumbled on a loose piece of the walkway and Derek had to bite back a laugh. He opened the back door and shoved Shrimp in then slammed the door. 

"How else would I talk to a baby?" he asked, grabbing the keys from Stiles and walking around to the front.

Stiles scrunched his eyes as he climbed into the passenger seat. "Baby talk. You know, when you talk all high and slow," he explained like Derek was the hugest idiot ever. 

"That sounds idiotic," Derek grumbled, starting the car. 

"That's the point," Stiles put on his seat belt and they both seemed to look back at the shrimp in the back seat. 

"That could be him," Derek said, letting some of the excitement creep into his voice. He let his gaze settle on the road as he pulled out from in front of the house and headed for the nearest police station. Stiles looked unsure, but what did he know. He was just the techie. 

The car ride was silent except for the occasional complaints form the kid in the back seat but that was to be expected. He was about to be put in jail for a while. At the very least, he had aimed a loaded gun at a federal agent. But Derek was sure they would also be able to prove that he was the one who'd been terrorizing morally unsound businesses. 

When they arrived at the police station, Derek told Stiles to stay in the car, but it seemed that he was only obedient when gunmen were involved. He trailed behind Derek as they entered the station, and he watched as Derek gave his badge number and took Shrimp into the interrogation room. There were step that had to be taken before Derek could legally interrogate him, but he didn't really care. 

He lead the boy into an empty interrogation room and sat him down before taking the other seat for himself. 

"So, how long have you been doing it?" He asked, expecting the kid to know exactly what he was talking about. 

"A few years, but I've been careful. How did you guys know I was dealing?" He asked in resignation. Derek narrowed his eyes. 

"I'm not talking about dealing." The kid looked up at him in surprise. 

"I'm not mixed up in anything else, I swear," he said, suddenly looking terrified. "Yo, you can't pin anything else on me. I know you cops are always trying to load on as many crimes as you can but that's all, I swear to god." Derek stared at him long and hard, but the kid seemed like he was being genuine. 

Stiles had said that was his address though. He'd been sure about it. Maybe not so much once they'd cuffed the loser, but on the way to the house he'd been convinced. So how was Derek sitting across from a drug dealer. "We got a signal from your house that proves you're the one who has been taking down sites and stealing thousands from accounts." Derek tried again, leaning forward. 

The kid leaned back and raised his hands. "I'm not even out of high school. Search my house, I don't have a computer. Who ever got that signal was wrong, it wasn't me," he argued. Derek just couldn't imagine that Stiles had been wrong. 

He always seemed so sure of himself. And he'd had such high recommendations all around. He'd gotten into one of the best schools in the country. Derek really hoped he hadn't been wrong when he'd chosen that kid. The last thing he needed was a techie who wasn't as good as the guy they were hunting. He was more than a little disappointed with the day's outcome. 

"Well then, I guess I'll just leave you to it. I'm sure you're going to be very busy very soon with those drug charges," Derek said as he left the room. He didn't wait to see what the kid would say in response. He didn't care about him if he wasn't The Black Fox. 

Outside, Stiles was sitting on the curb, playing on his phone. He'd probably gotten bored waiting inside. Police stations were actually pretty boring unless you were the one getting booked. When he caught sight of Derek he turned it off and stood with a wide grin on his face. Derek kind of wanted to hit him. All of his anger was suddenly making it's way to the surface and a fight was coming. 

"So do we have our culprit?" He asked excitedly. 

"No," Derek growled, heading straight for his car. He heard Stiles jogging to catch up but he didn't slow. The boy just barely sat down in the passenger seat when Derek was pulling out of the space. They needed to go to the hotel and regroup. Though he didn't know how they were going to do that when Stiles had no computer. 

"Hey, hold up," he nearly shouted, yanking his door closed and putting on his seat belt in a hurry. 

Derek didn't want to have the argument in the car, so he held it in. Stiles seemed to feel the fury radiating off of him, and stayed silent. Derek had to be grateful for those small miracles, but that did nothing to lift his mood. He was just so pissed. Stiles had been wrong, which put every thing he'd done since the first minute into question. And he'd opened his smart mouth in front of a guy with a gun. 

It was infuriating. Like he was intentionally trying to piss Derek off. Which was totally plausible because he seemed like he only existed to cause Derek grief. On top of every disaster, he was also entirely endearing and made Derek want to kiss him. It was so frustrating having to separate work and his feelings. It was Stiles' fault he even had to do it. 

He parked and lead the way to the front door of the hotel, eager to get upstairs and let it all out. Derek didn't bother holding the door for Stiles. Inside, the man at the front desk looked up. At the sight of them, he pulled luggage that looked suspiciously like theirs from behind his desk. Derek groaned and met him half way. They hadn't even been in their rooms, what could have possibly happened. 

"What did we do?" He almost whined. The day was obviously not going to get better.

"It seems there was a small fire in the Stilinski room. The cause is still unknown, but it goes without saying that we have to ask the both of you to leave," he explained. Derek took in his sharp features and decided maybe Stiles had been right to dislike him. 

"Of coarse. I'm assuming I won't be getting my deposit back..." Derek said, grabbing the bags. 

He gave Derek a look that said it all. 

With a sigh, Derek nodded and turned around. He was fully prepared to get in it with Stiles in the lobby, but he could see through the glass doors that Stiles was outside on the side walk pacing. Smart. But that had been the last straw. He didn't want to wait until they found another room somewhere else. Derek wanted to let go for a second and just let out all of his frustrations on Stiles. 

He stepped outside and dropped the bags on the sidewalk. At the sound of the bags hitting the floor, Stiles froze. His back was to Derek but he made no move to turn around. He had to know how angry Derek was. Derek knew it was wrong to take it out on Stiles when it wasn't all his fault but he was already opening his mouth. 

"That was literally the only hotel in town," Derek gritted out. Stiles cautiously turned around and attempted a grin. 

"At least it looks like The Black Fox isn't here. We can just consider it an early check out." Derek squeezed his hands into tight fists and took a deep breath. He didn't even know where to begin. 

"How the hell did you even lead us to that house?" Derek nearly yelled. Stiles flinched. The streets were empty despite it being midday and he was at least glad for that. 

"I don't know, I guess he fed me that signal." Stiles said unsure. 

"You guess? Did you guess when you patronized a guy with a gun? or set your room on fire?" Derek questioned as he began pacing before Stiles. He had so much energy. He needed to let off steam with out hitting anything. 

"Look, I clearly wasn't thinking before, and I'm sorry about that, but I think this guy is just better than me." Stiles leaned forward and picked up his bag. 

"No he isn't," Derek said half to himself. "He can't be, I have too much riding on this." 

"This isn't that big of a deal," Stiles responded. "We'll just try again, and if that doesn't work, you can find someone better than me. I know a lot of guys." It was probably an attempt at comfort but it did little to ease Derek's nerves. It actually kind of pissed him off even more. 

"Yes, it is. It's the biggest deal." Derek raised his voice slightly, but he couldn't look at Stiles because suddenly everything was spilling out of him. "I get one shot at this and if I blow it that's it, game over. I can't bring in a new guy, and I can't go down another dead end. My superiors will think I'm just like everyone else. They won't give me the promotion and I'll never get my hands on that file."

"What file?" But Stiles hardly had to ask, because Derek was falling apart and he suddenly had no way of regaining control.

"The one on my family. I'm never going to know what happened to them, and that's on me. God, I'm never going to find out who did it." Derek stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fists at his side and took in Stiles. 

He looked a little shocked by the information, and Derek suddenly regret saying anything. The information was officially out there and there was no way he could take it back. Stiles knew what had happened. He was going to look at Derek with those big, brown, sympathetic eyes. Derek was no good with sympathy. 

All of the anger suddenly drained out of him. He was just really tired. Derek picked up his bag and went around Stiles towards the parking lot. He just wanted to get lunch and try to rebuild what ever they had been working at. They just needed to regroup, figure out how to find the bastard before Derek's superiors started doubting him.

He dumped his bag in the back seat and pulled out his phone. Some time while he was searching for the nearest motel, Stiles quietly took his seat in the passenger side. Derek sighed, not wanting to get into the car. It was going to be this awkward thing where they sat there in silence but not because of Derek's refusal to talk, but Stiles' lack of anything to say. 

What could you say to a dead family?

Eventually he bit the bullet and got inside. He started the car and pulled out. The nearest motel was two towns over, an hour away. They could make it without talking for that long. Stiles just had to keep that stupid mouth of his shut. Maybe Derek would get lucky and he would once again be consumed by the orange leaves. He had no such luck.

"It doesn't have to be awkward," Stiles started cautiously, looking over at Derek. "I know what it's like to-"

"To what? Watch helplessly as your family dies? Have them taken from you?" Derek cut him off, probably a little harsher than necessary. But he didn't want to be related to. He just wanted everything to work out for once. 

"Yeah, actually. My mom died of frontotemporal dementia. It's kind of like Alzheimers only worse. I was 10 years old and I had to watch her forget who i was, who my dad was, for months before she passed away in the hospital. It tore apart my family. And when it was finally over, I suffered through depression and panic attacks for years." Stiles said bitterly, looking out the window. Derek tried not to interrupt him with an apology. He felt like a complete dick.

"And my dad? After he finally stopped drinking and started working again, I got a few good years with him. But then when I was 18, he was shot in a robbery. The sick part, he wasn't even on duty, he just wanted to help. The shooter got arrested, and he was eventually sentenced to life in prison, but that didn't help. I didn't get to see my dad one more time, or apologize for giving him such a hard time after my mom died."

"So yeah, I get what it's like, and I know it really sucks, but it gets less sucky. Not by much, but a little. And I know that you really want to get the guy that stole your family from you, but you shouldn't let it dominate your life. You should try focusing on other things that might make you happy, and maybe opening up to someone every once in a while would help."

Derek was such an asshole. He didn't even want to speak after the scolding he'd gotten. But he couldn't stop from asking. "How did it feel, knowing that guy was behind bars for life?"

Stiles grinned slightly but didn't look away from the window. "I went to the trial. I was so angry then, so when I found out he was being sentenced to life, I was so happy. I knew he was getting what he deserved. But when I went home that night, my dad wasn't there. And he didn't wake me up for school the next morning. And he didn't call me when I skipped class, or show up to get me out of trouble with the police. I moved out the next day, because the truth is, it didn't fix anything. It still hurt to be where my family used to live."

Derek stopped at a red light and looked over at Stiles. He looked like maybe it had hurt to let all of that out. Derek wanted to say something to comfort him, but he knew that no words could soothe that pain. So he turned back to the road and they rode in silence. It wasn't until they pulled into the parking lot of the motel 6 that he found his words. 

"Sorry I've been such a dick. I just can't afford to be distracted, and that's all you do," Derek said, shutting off the car. Stiles looked over at him and smiled slowly. 

"You think I'm a distraction," he stated. Then he grabbed his bag and headed for the main office. 

Derek let his head drop onto the steering wheel. God. He wasn't sure if he'd been lucky or unlucky to end up with Stiles as a partner, but he was sure as hell paying for it. He took a moment to compose himself before grabbing his own bag and heading inside. Stiles was standing before the counter with his arms crossed. The round woman behind the counter looked tired of him already. Derek knew the feeling. 

"She says there's only one room left," Stiles accused like a child. Derek rolled his eyes, glad it was all back to normal. 

"We'll take it," he said, pulling out his credit card. The woman smiled at him and took the card, then slid a key and receipt his way. He thanked her and dragged Stiles outside.

"Can we try to act our age this time? I don't want to get kicked out again," Derek scolded. Stiles grumbled something he couldn't hear. 

They were on the first floor. Their room was decently clean. The red and maroon color scheme was kind of worn, but at least everything looked clean. Derek dropped his bag on the single bed and began rooting around for his pajama pants. "You've got the couch," he told Stiles. 

"What? But I thought we were going to be civil now?" Stiles dropped his bag on the floor and glared at Derek. 

"That doesn't mean we're sharing beds. You've got the couch," Derek repeated. Stiles was suspiciously quiet. Derek glanced back at where he'd been standing at the door and groaned. 

"But what about my dead parents?" Stiles asked, jutting out his lower lip, making a face he had to have practiced. 

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose in resignation. He knew he wasn't winning that. "Fine." He grabbed his bag and dumping it on the couch. 

"Yes," Stiles gloated before jumping on the bed. 

Derek couldn't even believe he was attracted to someone who acted like that. But at least for the moment he was going to admit he was attracted to Stiles. And he kind of liked him too. Anyone who could go through that kind of loss and still be able to act so carefree amazed him. Stiles was somehow able to move on and be happy, and Derek was jealous. 

"So what are we doing about lunch? Because I'm starving." Stiles asked, reminding Derek that he'd also retained the ability to be incredibly annoying.


	5. Cool Kids

They'd mutually decided, after stuffing themselves with pizza, that they would stay in and relax for the rest of the day. They would figure out what to do next in the morning. And Stiles was incredibly relieved for that, because he'd had an eventful day and he needed some relaxation. So did Derek, even though he would never admit it. 

They watched movies until late into the night and they didn't talk much. Stiles suspected that since he'd opened up to Derek, the man had become a little more comfortable around him. And he was a little proud that Derek had admit earlier how distracting Stiles could be. Distracting was a good thing. It meant Stiles had a shot at getting him. 

But it also made Stiles feel pretty awful. Derek was warming up to him, and he was lying to him. No, he was purposefully keeping Derek from finding the guy who killed his family. Stiles had known that Derek's family was dead, but he hadn't dug any deeper than that. It had felt wrong. And he would never have guessed that it was the reason for Derek's dedication to finding Black Fox. It almost made Stiles want to turn himself in. 

Almost. 

But despite his sympathy for his cause, and his crush, he couldn't just turn himself in. That was a long time in prison and Stiles just couldn't do it. But he couldn't let Derek fail either. Not after finding out his reason. He'd thought that morning that he could distract Derek with a new criminal, but now he knew Derek was set on his path. 

It was a shame too, because Stiles had wasted a perfectly good computer on the idea. It had hurt to crash his baby like that, but he'd thought it was the only way to save himself from exposure. He was obviously going to have to think of something better than that. Something that would keep him out of jail and get Derek his coveted promotion. Oh, and also get Stiles laid. 

But as he was crawling into bed to go to sleep, Stiles still hadn't though of anything. Of coarse, it helped that Derek slept without a shirt on and that was very distracting. Especially since he put his arms behind his head in a way that made his arms bulge. He was so glad Derek couldn't see him at that angle. Stiles was not subtle. 

After a few minutes though, he still couldn't fall asleep. Maybe it was the dangerous game he was playing. Maybe it was because he'd forgotten his medication. Who could really tell. But the point was that he was awake and bored. And curious. Stiles figured since he'd shared, he was allowed to ask overly personal questions. Well, he probably would have asked regardless. 

"Hey Derek, are you awake?" Stiles whispered loudly. Derek groaned softly and that was answer enough. "Can you tell me what happened to your family?"

He listened to Derek as the man shifted around on the couch. There was a loud squeak that followed each of his movements. Stiles figured there was a fifty fifty chance that he would decide to spill. He was glad he'd behaved so well after Derek graciously paid for the pizza. That was probably what helped in the end.

"I was 16 when it happened. I'd been out in the barn behind my house. My family was so overbearing, always there in your business, and I just wanted a minute of peace. But then I heard screaming. I ran out and the house was on fire, the whole thing was suddenly lit. I was kind of in shock, just staring as it burned. When I finally thought to go in, help, the police had arrived. They got to me just before I could slip inside."

"But I wish they hadn't. All of my family was in that house. If I couldn't save any of them, I wanted to die with them. I got over that feeling after I found out my uncle and sister had survived, but then I just freaked. I couldn't handle how broken they were. I had my own pain. So I disappeared for a few years. Laura still hates when I go on trips because of it. And my uncle Peter never let me live it down. But at least this time I can make up for it all," he mumbled the last part, and Stiles felt his chest tighten at the hope in Derek's voice.

Neither of them said anything after that. 

Stiles didn't get any sleep.

\-----

"I'm in heaven," Stiles whispered as he stared as the shelve upon shelves of computers. Maybe crashing his hadn't been a total loss. 

"Aren't they all the same? Cant you just pick one?" Stiles gasped in horror at the question and smacked Derek's arm. 

"Don't talk like that." he scolded, leaning against the wall he whispered to the computers, "It's okay babies, he didn't mean it." Derek just rolled his eyes. 

Stiles was actually quite pleased with how everything was going. He still didn't know how he was going to fix everything, but at least that morning Derek had been much more pleasant. He was actually speaking to Stiles, and most of his words came out at a normal volume. He even smiled when Stiles caught sight of the Best Buy and began jumping in his seat in excitement. That was progress. 

And the best part, Derek was paying, well the CIA was, and Stiles could get what ever he wanted. It was kind of like sensory overload. He didn't know where to begin. Well he knew where he didn't want to begin at least. The best buy consultant. The guy kept hovering and asking Stiles if he was sure he didn't need any help. Just because he'd done nothing but stare at the wall for 15 minutes didn't mean he needed help. He probably knew way more than that sales guy. 

And a part of Stiles wanted to torture the guy, put him through what he'd gone through over the years, working in that god forsaken store. But that would have been cruel, and also, it would have taken away from Stiles' shopping time. Derek was already glancing at his watch. Stiles sped up slightly after that. He felt kind of bad about the whole, lying to him about being the one he's hunting down, thing.

It took another ten minutes, and Derek tapping his foot in the background, but Stiles finally settle on a VAIO 10inch. It was beautiful and convenient and shiny. So shiny. But he didn't exactly reach it. His fingers just brushed the shelf that held the computer. Derek scoffed at him and snatched it up like it was so cool that he was tall. 

"Is this the one you want?" He asked, reading the box. Stiles nodded excitedly. 

"It's portable, and has the keyboard for when I need it. And I can totally get him with that one," Stiles bragged. Derek wasn't really listening. Stiles looked up to find he was still reading the box, and half way to the register. 

He rushed over to the line and where Derek waited. "Isn't it perfect?" He asked, trying to see over Derek's shoulder. The man was way taller than him and he knew it was a lost cause, but he considered it an excuse to be close. Derek didn't expect him to be so close when he glanced over his shoulder and jumped. 

"It looks fine," Derek said. His eyes flashed down Stile's face before he hurriedly turned back around and took a step forward. Stiles bit back a sigh. Derek was being nicer, but he wasn't making it any easier for Stiles to seduce him.

They waited in silence after that, Derek taking a step forward anytime Stiles drifted too close. There was that awkward air again. 

\-----

Stiles sat the bed back at their hotel, typing away at his new computer while Derek watched him from his post on the couch. Stiles had to be sure to plan out every move because watched him like a hawk. So when Stiles decided it would be better to go back to California, he made sure to school his face into a mask of complete frustration and anger. Derek was up in an instant and leaning over Stiles shoulder. 

It was all coding so he knew Derek wouldn't be able to understand it. That gave him a second to figure out how he wanted to phrase it. He could choose any city in Cali, or he could choose Beacon hills. But he wasn't sure whether or not that seemed too suspicious. Maybe it could be too convenient, and Derek would assume it was the Black Fox screwing with them again. 

But then Derek would have to give up any chance of finding out who had murdered his family. He deserved closure, and Stiles couldn't possibly know how that felt when he'd gotten justice immediately after his father's death. So he couldn't be the one who took that chance away. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. 

"Stiles! What is it?" Derek called, snapping his fingers in front of Stiles' face. 

"Oh right, sorry," he muttered, typing a few more things in and pulling up a map. A little red pin was placed just over Beacon Hills, California. 

"Fuck," Derek cursed, standing up. He began pacing, arms crossed. "Is he fucking with us or did you actually get him?" He muttered to himself. Stiles wished he could do something to help, Derek looked like he was going to explode, but he knew that wasn't his place.

"So what's our next move?" Stiles interrupted. Derek froze and looked over at him. He rubbed his jaw. 

"We're going to have to go back to Beacon Hills and hope this isn't a game." Derek looked so unsure though. Stiles knew that was an expression the man rarely wore. Especially not in front of others. 

Stiles nodded and began packing up his bag ignoring the twist in his gut. He wished he could see a future where this didn't blow up in his face, but Stiles had not only screwed someone over, he'd kind of gotten attached. Usually, he was berating Scott for getting too attached to people and acting like a pushover. 

Stiles found himself watching Derek after he'd finished packing his own things. Derek was kneeling next to the couch and looking under it. That butt had to be at least half of the reason Stiles was lusting after him. And the face. And the way he wore those tight shirts that left nothing to the imagination. And the stubble. 

But then he'd gone and been a decent human being underneath it all. Stiles would have been perfectly fine with a one night stand before, but he suddenly felt like maybe he had feelings. Like the kind that made him want more. A lot more than he deserved considering what he was doing to Derek at the moment.

Derek stood and caught Stiles staring. He pretended not to notice and zipped up his bag. Stiles plastered on a grin and lead the way out to the car. Maybe he could find a way to make everyone happy. Or he could move to another country and change his name. But Scott would kill him if he missed the wedding. 

Not worth it. 

\-----

The second plane ride was much better than the first for a whole bunch of reasons. The first being that Stiles knew what to expect and wasn't nearly as terrified when the plane began moving. He was scared obviously, it was a tin can with wings, but it was definitely less freaky to suddenly be lifting off. And he wasn't as surprised when his ears began popping. 

The second reason was that he and Derek were on friendlier terms. This meant that he was allowed to grab hold of Derek's bicep as the plane lifted off, even though he wasn't nearly as anxious as he'd been before. Derek hadn't even flinched, he'd just gone right back to reading his newspaper.

There was also the fact that Stiles had learned about Derek's weakness. They'd both wanted the window seat. Stiles was had the disadvantage because he'd gotten it last time, but he argued that he hadn't gotten to enjoy it because he'd been so freaked out. When that didn't work, he tried his puppy dog eyes and Derek caved in under a minute.

And the other thing, the plane ride had been way more fun. The second they were up in the air, Derek flipped his newspaper to the crossword and shifted an inch closer to Stiles. It was the only way Derek knew how to be nice to him and Stiles was loving it. Especially when he lifted the armrest between them and their shoulders pressed together. Derek didn't move a muscle. 

Stiles grinned to himself and leaned a little closer to get a look at the crossword. Or at least that's what he told himself. It was five across and the clue was a pasture animal. Well that was easy. It was obviously a bison. Except Derek was writing horse. Stiles reached out and swatted Derek's hand away before he could finish writing the wrong answer. 

"It's bison," Stiles corrected, trying to grab the pencil from his hand. But Derek was holding it just out of reach. He was staring at Stiles like the guy had a second head, so that was a little weird. 

"Stiles, it's obviously horse," he said, attempting to write it in, but Stiles was having none of that. He was totally right. 

"No, it's bison." 

"No, because that one is embarrass and bison doesn't fit," Derek explained. He pointed with his pen to 14 down. Stiles bit his lip, trying to find a way out of being wrong, and Derek just grinned. Smug bastard. But Stiles had to admit it was hot when he was right. And you know, every second of the day. 

"Fine, horse it is," Stiles conceded, "But bison would have been better." Stiles began tapping his finger absentmindedly. Derek nodded, humoring him Stiles was sure, and wrote the 'right' answer. 

"Of coarse it would have," Derek muttered. 

"Well that means the next one is mine," Stiles claimed, snatching the crossword from Derek's fingers and searching for an answer he knew. 

"Ok, but there's no shame in giving up. They might just be too hard for you." Derek justified, reading over Stiles' shoulder. It took a minute for him to be able to focus on anything but Derek's breath on his neck.

"I can do this," he muttered, finding one that sounded doable. Hungry, hungry ________. Stiles knew that one. 

"That's the easiest one, that doesn't count," Derek started as Stiles wrote in hippo. 

"I disagree. I think it takes real brains to figure that one out," Stiles argued, searching for another he knew. 

"Hey, it's my turn," Derek tried to pluck the crossword from Stiles' fingers. Stiles squirmed away holding the crossword against the window shielding it with his body. 

"Why? It's too hard for me so it's not like I'm going to figure anymore out," Stiles mocked as Derek leaned against his back, trying to weasel his hand into the cocoon Stiles had formed to grab the crossword. 

"I'm just trying to protect you from giving yourself a headache," Derek grunted, getting one hand under Stiles' arm. 

"That's thoughtful, really, but I thi-" But Stiles cut off as Derek's hand pressed against his side and Stiles let out a short laugh. They both froze. Stiles felt his stomach drop as a smile formed on Derek's lips. Stiles knew him well enough to at least know that when Derek smiled, it didn't end well for him. 

Before he could defend himself, Derek's hands were at his sides tickling the life from him. Stiles dropped the crossword to the floor in surprise, the piece of paper quickly forgotten by the both of them Stiles laughed silently gasping for breath and trying to push Derek's hands away, but the man was too strong. Damn those muscles. 

"Mercy," Stiles wheezed, trying to lean away, but Derek only scooted closer. 

So it came as a surprise when Derek did stop because it happened so abruptly. Stiles let his head fall back against the window as he sucked in air. When he finally peeked, Derek was sitting more in the middle than in his own seat, and there was a flight attendant standing in the aisle and looking very disapproving.

"There have been several complaints about the noise," she scolded. "Keep it down or we'll have to relocate one of you." She threatened before storming off to the back. And old lady one aisle down glared at them. Stiles couldn't imagine who could have possible complained. Once a curtain had fallen behind the flight attendant, Stiles burst out laughing. 

Derek grinned but was able to control himself much better than the younger boy. "Come on, she's going to come back and move me," he scolded, picking up the abandoned crossword. Derek got three more answers before Stiles had gotten himself calmed down. 

It was then that Stiles noticed Derek was still sitting between the seats and they were pressed ridiculously close together. Derek hadn't seemed to notice. He was wearing a small grin though. Stiles didn't care if it was because they'd actually enjoyed themselves for a minute there or because they were touching, but he was more than content with either. 

He tried to help Derek with the rest of the words, but he was a lost cause. He couldn't concentrate on any of the words with Derek so close, so instead, he leaned his head back on the seat and let his eyes drift shut. Derek's body heat was coming off in waves, and he smelled so good. The combination lulled Stiles to sleep quickly, and he didn't wake until he heard a woman shouting. 

\-----

Derek was acutely aware of every breath Stiles took as he tried to focus on the crossword. Usually he was pretty good at the but with Stiles almost on top of him, it took him nearly ten minutes to figure out every clue. So it was easy to tell the minute the boy fell asleep. He breathing slowed, and the foot he had been tapping stopped. 

Derek had to admit, those nervous habits were somehow getting less annoying. Everything Stiles did had been getting less annoying the last two days. Derek suspected that it had something to do with the fact that he and Stiles were being civil. Since Derek had decided that it would be okay for them to be friends, they'd been much more relaxed around each other. 

Derek still wanted to push him against a wall and run fingers through that hair, but that attraction had always been there and probably always would be. And since they'd actually been speaking, Derek had become more fond of Stiles, but friendship was definitely the way to go. He couldn't risk messing up their partnership. Mixing work with pleasure wouldn't end well and he knew it. 

So he would just shove it down. He could control himself. Sure, most friends probably didn't sit as close to each other as Derek was sitting to Stiles, but that didn't mean that he was going to do anything. He just thought it felt nice to have Stiles up against him. And maybe the tickling had been a bit much, but that had been friendly. Friends were allowed to do that. 

As if Stiles knew Derek was struggling with that, his head dropped onto the man's shoulders.

Derek stiffened, looking down at his sleeping face. It never got old, seeing Stiles asleep. There was just something so special about getting to see him in that calm state. Stiles was never willingly like that when he was awake. Even when he was silent because Derek was ignoring him, the boy would be tapping or fidgeting in some way. It made Derek feel like he was seeing behind the curtain. 

It was half an hour later when the old woman who had been glaring at them since the moment they'd sat down, got up. She shuffled down the aisle, probably to go to the bathroom, and passed by Derek. Besides giving him a withering look, she kept walking. It was on the way back that she paused at his aisle. 

"Is that your boyfriend? You really should be more discreet about that. Not every one is so tolerant with your kind," she stage whispered. 

Stiles had somehow wrapped himself around Derek's right arm, (Of coarse he didn't like the way Stiles was clinging to him. He was just tolerating it because he didn't want to move him and wake him.) and so Derek used his left hand to squeeze the bridge of his nose. Derek had dealt with a lot of those types in his life, but rude people never failed to get his blood boiling. 

"Is that so?" he asked, looking up at her with his most innocent expression. Which probably wasn't all that good. 

"Oh yes, there are quite a few people on this very plane who might even call what you're doing disgusting," she said with a giggle. Yes, she giggled. Then she smoothed out her pink skirt and jacket, smiling like she was doing him a favor. 

"Look lady," Derek said roughly, "No one car-" he began a rant he'd used before, in a hushed tone as not to wake up the sleeping boy, but the woman was already walking away. Walking away and flagging down the woman that had scolded them earlier. Derek watched as the old lady fanned herself and frowned at the young woman. They exchanged words then the flight attendant started towards Derek with a less than happy expression. He noticed the old lady sit down in her seat with a small grin. 

"Shit."

"What is wrong with you? Yelling at an old lady who just wanted to go back to her seat?" The flight attendant raised her voice. 

"look, miss, I-"

"Don't look miss me.The last thing I need is some pretty boy thinking he can cop an attitude with me. Or worse flirt his way out. I warned you earlier. Now there is an empty seat five rows up the aisle. I'd like you to move immediately." She demanded, moving back a step so Derek could stand and get into the aisle.

Derek had to admit he was frustrated by the whole situation. It was bullshit. The old lady back there had obviously h ad it out for them since the second they'd sat down. And she'd figured out how to separate them for more than half of the flight. But he wasn't pissed until Stiles opened his eyes, began rubbing them, and sat up. She'd gone and woken him. 

"Why's she yelling?" He muttered groggily. Dammit he really couldn't get any cuter. 

"I have to move," Derek said in his most accusing voice, but he stood regardless, gently pulling away from Stiles. He made sure to grab his crossword. He was going to need it. 

"Ugh, did you get all grumpy with someone? You know you don't have to act like a jerk all of the time," Stiles said, crossing his arms. But Derek got the feeling he was more bummed Derek was moving seats, than he was pissed Derek was acting like a jerk. 

"It's just a talent of mine," Derek replied dryly. 

With that and a frown from Stiles, he moved up to sit next to a passed out old man. He didn't mind that so much though. At least it wasn't some one who wanted to have a conversation. What Stiles had said was kind of true. When it came to regular people out in the real world, he did have a pretty outstanding record for being a jerk. 

Derek glanced back at Stiles and bit back a laugh. The kid was draped across both seats, head hanging out into the aisle, playing dead. The moment he noticed Derek smiling, he sat up and smiled back, weak as it was. Because he'd done that just to amuse Derek, and it made him happy to know he'd succeeded. 

With a sigh, Derek turned back around and pulled out a crossword. The last thing he wanted was to get yelled at again. He chose number 16 across. To be very fond of. It was a four letter word. Derek stared at it for a moment before dropping the crossword onto his lap and pulling out his phone. He hadn't checked on his farm in a while.

\-----

Stiles started by tapping his fingers. Then it was shaking his foot. Little by little his boredom escalated until he felt like he was going to bust out of his skin, and it had only been five minutes since Derek had been forcibly, and probably justifiably, removed. He would never make it through the rest of the flight without hurting himself and at least half of the people on the flight. 

So really getting Derek back was in everyone's best interest, not just his. And if he bothered some people in the mission to bring Derek back, well it would be a lot worse for them if Stiles remained without any source of entertainment. It didn't take long after that for him to think up a 'full proof' plan.

He started by kicking the seat in front of him. It was an older guy, in his late 40's maybe, so Stiles felt bad, but not very. First, the man asked Stiles to stop kicking his chair, to which Stiles agreed. But then he started kicking again once the guy turned around. Then bald spot called a flight attendant. Seriously was she the only flight attendant on duty.

"Sir, there have been complaints about your....behavior," she said, through gritted teeth. Stiles nodded as he took in her navy pencil skirt and tightly bound blonde bun. He also noticed she had a little name tag. Amelia.

"Of coarse," Stiles assured her. He would most definitely do his best to work on his behavior. He wasn't acting nearly bad enough to get Derek moved back.

Once Amelia returned to the back, Stiles noticed Derek looking back at him with a disapproving expression. Everyone was just so uptight today. Stiles just waved and put in his headphones. He didn't start singing Bad Reputation at the top of his lungs until Derek had already turned his attention back to his phone. 

Stiles had actually been surprised by how good the acoustics were in the plane. He could hear his voice over Avril and he sounded fantastic. Unfortunately, it seemed like the other passengers on the plane didn't agree. They actually seemed like they were annoyed. Stiles smiled as his voice cracked. Well maybe he couldn't hit all of the notes.

Amelia was back in a flash which was pretty flattering because Stiles didn't think anyone had even had the time to call her. She motioned for him to pull out his headphones, but Stiles obviously had to finish the chorus first. He couldn't just cut off midline. Unfortunately, she didn't understand, because Amelia ripped it from his ear rudely. 

"Sir you need to stop this," Stiles nodded. She was beginning to sound like a broken record. 

"I see how it would seem like that, but I don't think so," Stiles said, moving to put his headphones back in. 

"No, if you continue to be disruptive I'll be forced to call the authorities and have you arrested when we land," she responded, grabbing his hand and keeping him from putting his headphones back in.

"But then I could still be disruptive until we land." Amelia released him and brought her fingers to her temples. It was funny how often Stiles elicited that response from others. 

"Why do I feel like you want something?" She finally asked, looking resigned. Stiles pulled the headphones from his ipod and shoved the pair in his pocket. 

"I just want you to move my friend back." 

The stewardess looked at him suspiciously, but held up a finger. She went over to where Derek was sitting, he'd already been watching the exchange with horror written all over his face, and lead him back. Derek glared at Stiles the whole way back and sat with a thump. Amelia didn't stay to chat, she just kept walking to the back. 

"You understand I can never take you out in public," Derek stated, rubbing his jaw. 

Stiles scooted closer with a wide grin. "You wanted to take me out in public?" Derek laughed and tried to cover it with a cough. 

"Not anymore," he muttered, looking away. 

"Liar," Stiles teased, moving back to his seat and looking out the window. He heard Derek blow out a breath of air and knew he was so right. 

The rest of the flight was uneventful in comparison. The flight attendant glared at them whenever she passed by, but that got uninteresting fast. Stiles asked about the crossword, but Derek mumbled something about having finished it, so that was a bust. Then there was the fact that he'd already slept. So that just left conversation. 

Derek was painfully bad at that though, so they kind of just sat listening to their ipods. Every once in a while one of them would say something relevant and they might have a short conversation, but then they would go back to their silence. It was oddly pleasant, and Stiles was actually able to weasel some information out of Derek. 

Like his sister. Stiles was allowed to ask about her. He found out Laura was a pediatrician. She had really weird hours so she was always showing up at Derek's house whenever she was off. Derek acted like it pissed him off, but Stiles thought maybe he secretly liked it from his almost smile. And she was always making her own copies of his keys to his place even though every time she did he got them changed. 

Stiles had to admit, the was Derek talked about his sister was kind of adorable. He was just so frustrated and endeared by her at the same time. He asked Stiles if he had any siblings, but Stiles just had Scott. His friend was like a brother, and they did things to each other that made them seem like they were related. That was practically the same thing right? And there was always Melissa, who acted like she was everyone's mother. 

Then, before they knew it, the plane was making it's descent. Stiles was clinging to Derek's arm for the entire process and only let go when the plane came to a complete stop. He considered jumping over Derek like he had the last time, but he figured Derek deserved a reward for being so pleasant. Stiles purposely made an effort to not fidget and be patient while waiting for his turn to get off. 

It was after they'd gotten their bags from baggage claim and stepped outside that Stiles realized they would have to split up. He'd been a stubborn idiot, bringing his jeep. That meant they would have to ride to Stiles' house separately. So Stiles wouldn't get to tease Derek while he attempted to stay in between the lines on the road. Bummer. 

"Give me your apartment keys," Derek demanded. "I'm probably going to get there way before you and I don't want to wait outside."

"Are you insinuating that my baby is slow?" Stiles asked, holding his keys to his chest. 

"No, I'm stating it. Now hand them over."

"Nope, see you there," Stiles called, launching into a sprint towards his car. Derek looked like he debated following, but in the end he just deflated and trudged to his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating like a beast! Sorry this chapter means nothing.....


	6. Rumored Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idek what I was doing here so I hope you guys don't hate it. I'm searching for someone to help write the either the next chapter, or the one after that, which will probably have smut. If you are interested please message me here or on my tumblr, screw-hussie.tumblr.com
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if I cant keep up this crazy pace I've had going.
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek stood in the hallway staring at the door. He wanted to be pissed, he really did, but he couldn't because he'd seen it coming. Stiles in all of his absurdity, was becoming predictable. A week ago, Derek wouldn't have imagined that he'd grow accustomed to all of Stiles' antics. But a week ago, he also hadn't been standing in front of a door for thirty minutes while cursing a jeep. 

\-----

Stiles rubbed the hood affectionately. Stiles had to admit that at first he'd thought he could beat Derek to his house. He had gotten half way there and was already preparing his gloating speech. Then Baby had started making her patented 'im going to go ahead an take a break now' noise. She didn't last more than a few minutes after that. 

He'd tried, in vain, to get her to start back up, but that hadn't worked out so well. Then he'd lifted the hood and started poking around. But for all of the years Stiles had owned that Jeep, he'd never learned anything about the way a car worked. So after pulling on this and tightening that, when she still wouldn't start, Stiles put the hood back down and stretched out on her. 

"It's okay baby, I forgive you," he told her, getting comfortable. 

He would have to call Derek, and something told him the man wouldn't rush to go get him. Stiles was already a good half hour late. And Derek had probably been standing in the hall fuming the whole time. But Stiles knew hitching a ride wasn't the smartest plan. He was way too pretty to risk hitching a ride from a serial killer. 

He sighed and pulled out his phone, dialing Derek's cell.

"You broke down didn't you?" Derek asked, sounding more resigned than pissed. 

"Yeah," Stiles admit with a nervous chuckle. "So...any chance you can come pick me up?" Stiles bit his lip and looked up at the suspiciously close rain clouds. He heard a loud sigh then some shuffling.

"Yeah, fine. I'll be there as soon as I can," Derek said. 

"Wait," Stiles called before Derek could hang up. "Don't you want to know where I am?"

"No," Derek said with a short laugh. "I have a tracker on you."

"What?" Stiles nearly shouted, sitting up in a rush. But Derek had already hung up. 

He'd bugged Stiles. Stiles stared down at his phone. Had Derek bugged that, or had he touched his baby. He couldn't believe Derek had done that. Stiles knew he should have been pissed. Really pissed. If he'd have gone somewhere to cover up the fact that he was Black Fox and lied about it to Derek, he would have gotten caught. 

Stiles laid back down and tried to keep his mind from running too out of control. Derek obviously had no right to do that. Or maybe he did, Stiles hadn't exactly read those papers he'd signed thoroughly. But he could have at least told Stiles that he'd planted a bug on him. He felt a little insulted that Derek didn't trust him. Not that he should considering what Stiles did with his free time. 

And more than that, Stiles was confused. Why had Derek felt the need to bug Stiles in the first place? Had he done something suspicious? Was Derek on to him? But he'd been so nice since that morning. And he'd even laughed a few times. It just didn't make any sense. What had Stiles done to garner that special attention?

His thoughts were cut off but a loud crack of lightning. Stiles jumped at the sound. The sky looked like it was growing darker by the second. He quickly scrambled off of the hood of his car and hurried to the front door. It was locked. He patted down his pockets but they were empty except for his ipod and his cell. 

"Shit!"

The window was open a few inches because of the broken air conditioner, thank god, and he slipped them into the car moments before the rain came down in sheets. Stiles stood there in shock for a moment before searching frantically for some cover. Unfortunately, he was on one of the many dirt roads that lead to his town. There was forest on both sides of the road, but Stiles had never been much of a fan. 

So after seriously considering sliding under the car, he didn't actually think Derek would let him in the car if he was covered in dirt, Stiles decided against it. There was the obvious possibility that getting Derek's car filthy would have been perfect revenge for him not telling Stiles about the whole tracking thing. But there was always the possibility of him leaving Stiles in the rain. 

By the time Derek pulled up, Stiles could feel his bones literally turning into ice. His arms were folded against his chest and he was leaning against the side of his baby. His foot was tapping rapidly out of anxiety and cold. Derek got out of the car with an umbrella and jogged over to Stiles, covering them both. "I think it's a little late for that," Stiles muttered, glaring down at his soaked form.

"Hey, I sped the whole way here. Why aren't you in your car?" He asked, but Stiles didn't feel like answering that. He was soaked and cold and he felt like teasing Derek. 

"You broke the law for me?" He asked, gazing wide eyed at Derek. Derek looked away quickly. Stiles was kind of proud. 

"Shut up. Do you want to go get warm or what?" He turned toward the car, waiting for Stiles to move. Stiles grinned and lead the way. 

"So when did you bug me? And where?" Stiles asked as they sat down. Derek hadn't offered any protective measures for his car so Stiles tried not to worry about the nice leather seats. It was kind of hard though when Derek's car was meticulously cleaned. There was nothing in it anywhere that hinted at a person using it regularly. Weirdo. 

"Do you want a jacket?" He ignored Stiles question starting the car. Stiles had to admit it was an effective subject change though. He'd been in love with that jacket since he'd seen it, and he was majorly freezing. 

"Yes, please," he said, holding out his hands. Derek afforded him a glance and small smile. 

"Just take off your shirt first. It won't do any good if you leave it on," Derek advised, pulling off his jacket. Stiles bit his lip and took it. If Derek looked good with it on, he looked better without it. Tight shirts were officially Stiles' favorite thing because they left nearly nothing to the imagination when it came to the muscular glory that was Derek. 

Down boy. 

Stiles ripped off his shirt and dropped it to his feet. He tugged the leather jacket on quickly and zipped it up. He was practically swimming in it, but it was warm and smelled like Derek. Some kind of cologne, pine, and a tiny bit of sweat. Stiles had to physically restrain himself from inhaling it. He was all about obvious, but creepy didn't look good on anyone. 

He watched Derek watch him as he rolled the sleeves up. They were way too long and he kind of needed hands. Then he stared tapping his leg. "So you going to tell me about the whole bugging me thing?" Stiles finally asked, staring at the man who was suddenly very taken with the road. 

"I just bugged your cell in case anything ever happened. It was precautionary," Derek explained, still staring straight ahead. 

"When did you even have time to do that?" Stiles tried to recall the last time he'd left his phone alone with Derek, and there had been numerous opportunities. He wasn't as careful as he'd thought. 

"It was the first night in Maine. You left your door wide open. Anyone could have walked right in. And since protecting you is my responsibility, I figured I might as well put a tracker on you just in case since you probably weren't going to pick up safe habits any time soon." Derek looked a little peeved but Stiles was stuck on the protecting him part. Was it because Stiles was his charge, or because Derek had gotten and gotten attached?

"Thanks," Stiles said, dropping it and looking out the window. He could see Derek staring at him out of the corner of his eye, probably not safe seeing as he was driving, but Stiles doubted he would risk getting them in an accident. 

When Derek finally looked away, Stiles heard him let out a large sigh. Like he'd been worried that Stiles would be mad about the whole thing. Stiles didn't know exactly what Derek had been worrying about, but he knew one thing for sure. Just thinking it made a grin fall onto Stiles' face, despite the cold denim clinging to his legs. 

Derek liked him. 

\-----

When they got to Stile's apartment, he ran to his bedroom, stripping off his jeans and underwear. He pulled on a clean pair of boxer briefs and blue, plaid pajama pants. Then he went straight for the kitchen, retrieving milk and the small packet of hot chocolate. He did not take off the jacket and Derek didn't mention it as he sat down in Stiles' computer chair. 

"Do you want cocoa?" Stiles asked as he warmed his milk in the microwave. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter top as he waited. 

"No, thanks. Do you want to call a tow truck for your car..." Derek suggested, leaning back in the computer chair in a way that made it almost okay he was sitting there. 

"Yeah, I'll take care of it. Me and Joe, the towing guy, are on a first name basis at this point. He might even drive past baby and pick her up for me. He knows how temperamental she can be," Stiles explained, pulling out his mug excitedly from the microwave a second before it could even beep. "Shit!"

Stiles cursed, hurriedly placing the mug on the counter and waving his hand in the air. There was a distinct burning in the tips of his fingers. He always forgot to wait, every freaking time, and he always burned his hand. When Stiles turned to put it under the tap, Derek was leaning against the sink, trying to get a look at the hand. "What happened?" Stiles bit back a smile. 

"Nothing just a burn, happens all the time," Stiles replied, leaning around him and turning on the cold water. As Stiles felt his skin cool, Derek moved and began rooting through the cabinets. They were mostly empty so Stiles couldn't imagine what he was looking for.

"Where's your first aid kit?" Derek finally asked when he discovered the same. He turned to Stiles looking exasperated and worried and it was adorable. 

"I don't have one...." Stiles said as he dried off his hands and went to pour the cocoa mix into his still warm milk. He pulled down the long sleeves of Derek's jacket before touching the mug again. 

"How do you not have a first aid kit? You literally have the worst luck ever. You got locked out of your car in the rain then burned yourself," Derek scolded. God he was even cute when he was disappointed in Stiles' lack of preparedness. He'd never really had a need for one. And if he did get hurt, which was actually pretty often, someone else usually had one handy. Mostly Scott. 

"I can't be that bad, I'm still alive aren't I?" Stiles mixed slowly and took a tentative sip. Perfect. Well not as good as the stuff his mom used to make him, but close as he was ever going to get. Which was depressing, so he turned back to Derek with a smile. 

"That's if you don't get a cold or infection," he said with a scoff. 

"I'll be fine," he assured Derek, taking his seat at his desk. It took him a moment to realize his computer was still in the car. Oh. So he couldn't really do anything.

He turned to Derek who was leaning against one of his counters, scowl still firmly in place. "So....what now?" 

Derek rolled his eyes like it was obvious. "You're going to find where the signal orig-" Derek cut off when his eyes landed on the empty desk and he realized the same thing. "Oh."

"Yeah." 

They sat there in silence for a moment, Stiles sipping his drink in his chair and Derek leaning against the counter, staring hard at the floor. Stiles got the feeling that Derek didn't really want to leave, but he couldn't think of a good reason to stay. Stiles wasn't in the business of making it easy for people so he let Derek sweat it out as he drank his cocoa. 

"I could go get it," Derek finally offered. That wasn't bad, but Stiles had really been hoping for a more bedroom oriented excuse. Bummer.

"I don't have a spare key," He replied. 

"I can pick a lock," Derek said with a laugh. Stiles tilted his head in confusion. 

"Then why didn't you pick my apartment lock today instead of waiting outside?" He obviously had more self control than Stiles. Stiles finished the last of his drink and sighed in content. He was completely warm 

"Just because I can doesn't mean I should. Besides this place is a mess. The hall is way cleaner." Derek teased. Although Stiles was pretty sure Derek was legitimately put off by the mess. If his car had been so spotless, Stiles was scared to see his place. 

"Hey, it's taken years to cultivate this perfect habitat," Stiles defended, getting up to put his cup in the sink. "And it's getting late. We should just call it a night. I think I'm just gonna put on a movie and relax. We'll get back to it tomorrow," Stiles suggested, leaning his back against the sink. There was no way he was going to wash that. He usually didn't do dishes until he was completely out of clean ones. And his new placement had absolutely nothing to do with how close it put him to Derek.

Derek nodded reluctantly. "You're right I guess." He shoved off the counter and reached out a hand to Stiles.

"What?" he asked staring at it in confusion. 

"My jacket, I need it back. It's my favorite one," Derek explained, not pulling back his hand. Stiles resisted the urge to cross his arms. The jacket was not his. 

"Or, counter proposal, you can stay and watch a movie with me, because I happen to not want to go rooting through my stuff for something equally warm. Wouldn't want to catch a cold," he babbled without thinking it through. Suddenly, he couldn't keep his finger from tapping out a beat on the ledge of the sink. 

Derek crossed his arms but didn't move. "What are you watching?"

Stiles grinned and dashed into his living room. One thing he did splurge on was his dvd collection. He flipped open the television stand cabinets and showed Derek his hundreds of movies. "What ever you want."

\-----

"No!" Stiles yelled, throwing popcorn at the screen. Some of it landed on Derek, the man fought a smile but Stiles caught the twitch. 

"They can't hear you," Derek told him for the hundredth time. Stiles ignored him. Pita had just gotten electrocuted and Katniss was crying and freaking out. Best part. "Wasn't I supposed to pick the movie," Derek continued. 

He'd already brought up the point half a dozen times, but they both knew why he hadn't chosen the movie. Stiles had seen Catching Fire while offering titles to Derek, and after saying please a few times, Derek caved. It wasn't Stiles' fault that he didn't have a backbone when it came to Stiles wanting things.

"Shhhhh!" Stiles hushed him, throwing some popcorn at the man. It was the good part. Well the whole movie was the good part technically. 

Derek collected the popcorn and threw it back. "You shouldn't assault an agent. You could get yourself hurt," he said seriously.

"Oh I bet," Stiles replied sarcastically. He took special care to drop a few more pieces of popcorn on the man. What could he say, the jacket was making him bold. And also, he was kind of an instigator. 

"I'm serious Stiles," Derek crossed his arms and made his 'listen to me' face. Stiles bit back a smile. He was so cute when he was trying to be tough. 

"Fine," Stiles stuck his tongue out at Derek but otherwise retrained himself. Until Derek finally relaxed into the sofa. Then Stiles 'accidentally' tipped the bowl that had been sitting on his lap, spilling it onto Derek.

The funniest part of it all, in Stiles' opinion, had to be how confused he looked. Just staring at his lap, then Stiles, then his lap again. Stiles stood cautiously and began backing away. Maybe he could leave without Derek even noticing. He got maybe three steps before Derek stood, brushing himself off. 

It was in that moment, as Stiles was contemplating what his punishment would be, that he realized Derek was missing something at his hip. "Where's your gun?" Stiles asked without thinking. Derek seemed to snap out of one confused state and into another.

"In my car..." he trailed off, then suddenly his face turned into one of shock. Derek took a step back. "I wouldn't have shot you," he said slowly. Stiles almost laughed at how confused and shocked and hurt Derek looked. It was also a little sad though. 

"No, it wasn't that!" Stiles rushed to defend himself but Derek recovered and interrupted him.

"Is this just a ploy to change the subject, because I'm still mad. You aren't getting out of this one scot free," Derek insisted. Stiles knew he could have gotten out of it even without the change of subject.

"No! It's just that you always have it, and I just realized you didn't put it on today," Stiles mentioned, trying to remember the last time he had seen it. Probably when he'd arrested that drug dealing kid. That had been hot. No, no getting off topic. 

"Yeah, I figured you didn't like it since, you know, what happened. So I've been leaving it in the car. " Derek explained, rubbing a hand over his jaw. If Stiles squinted he could almost make out a blush under all of that scruff. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking since Stiles could feel his own face heating up. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. That had to be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for him in a while. 

"Wow, thanks. I guess there really is a nice person underneath all of that grumpy exterior," Stiles joked, trying to get their balance back. He was still a little flustered by uncharacteristically sweet Derek.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Well I'd be nicer, because this very grumpy exterior is still trying to decide whether he wants to seek revenge." He motioned to the few pieces of popcorn that were sticking to his jeans. 

Stiles had the grace to look ashamed. Maybe he could lay off Derek for a little while. He had been kind of awesome lately. And being nice to him would probably help with the mission to get into his pants. "Sorry about that," Stiles said, sitting back down and hoping nothing would come spilling down on him anytime soon.

Derek seemed skeptical, but eventually he sat down as well. Stiles figured it had to do with the fact that Derek couldn't stay mad at him. After being told about the gun, he was 100% positive that Derek was into him. Something was just holding him back. So Stiles resolved to be as good as he could just in case that was it.

He behaved as well as could be expected of him, only yelling at the screen sometimes, and keeping all of his flailing limbs to himself. Derek didn't really talk much throughout the rest of the movie except to tell Stiles to shut the hell up, but he did drape his right arm over the back of the couch so that it rested behind Stiles. After that, all he could do was wonder if Derek was going to make a move. He didn't. 

When the movie was over, It was already 11 at night and Derek wanted to leave, but Stiles convinced him to stay for one more using the patented look of his. They played Fired up! It actually cracked Derek up a few times which made Stiles really proud for having been the one to choose it. Derek had a few beers, Stiles had a few Monsters. It was all so normal that Stiles almost forgot who they were. 

Until Derek's phone rang. 

Stiles was closer to the cell on the table and he'd been behaving really well, so he snatched it up and answered. "Hello?"

"Who is this? Where's Derek?" A woman immediately asked, sounding worried. Derek had put down his beer and was watching Stiles suspiciously. "Who is it?" he mouthed. 

"This is Stiles," He said, rolling his eyes. It was almost like Derek didn't talk about him to all of his friends and family all of the time. Derek's eyes widened and he made a motion for Stiles to hang up. He seemed kind of worried. 

"Whose Stiles? Are you a coworker of his or a date?" She asked like it was a habit. Derek grabbed for the phone but Stiles stood quickly and backed away with a finger up. 

"Um, who is this," he asked, keeping a wary eye on Derek who was standing up. 

"Laura, his sister. And I'm guessing from the tone that you're his date. I'll just leave you to it then, but can I talk to my brother first?" She was suddenly sweet as pie and Stiles didn't really know what to do but hand over the phone. It wasn't like Derek was going to say anything he would regret. "Okay, nice meeting you."

"Hello Laura," Derek said, the moment he got on the phone. He obviously hadn't had that much to drink if he could sober up so quickly. "No, I'm not.... No, he isn't.... No, I wouldn't..." he answered. He began pacing and ended the call with a terse 'fine.'

After hanging up, Derek held the phone against his forehead. Stiles being himself couldn't just let Derek have a moment of peace, so he interjected. "You're going to contract brain cancer like that and then you'll never see the end of this movie." Derek's lip twitched. He dropped his phone onto the side table and sat back down without a word. 

Stiles was just thinking of a way to pester information out of him when he offered it himself. "You shouldn't have told her your name." Weird, but he would bite.

"Why not? Technically it isn't even my real one." Derek scoffed.

"She'll find you anyways. Then she'll show up here unannounced and ask about your intentions. Then she'll ultimately give you her blessing even though you don't need it, because she just wants me to be happy," Derek explained, watching the movie intently. Stiles just watched him. The way his features were lit in the dark room by the television. 

"So I'm good enough for the Derek Hale. I'm flattered," Stiles teased as Derek placed his arm back over the top of the couch. 

"Don't be. To her, almost anyone is good enough," Derek mocked. Stiles wasn't so sure.

"What about to you?" Stiles watched as Derek sized him up nonchallantly and went back to the movie. 

"I'm not patient enough. I have a temper," he justified. Stiles rolled his eyes. What a lame excuse. 

"You've been patient all week. I don't think that would be a problem," Stiles said. He could always take out his anger in the bedroom if he wanted.

"You're way too messy," he added. 

"I could pick up."

"You're too young."

"Hardly. I've seen larger age gaps work out," Stiles continued undeterred.

"I guess you're right," Derek conceded. "But there is the matter of agents not being allowed to have relationships with other employees." Derek explained taking a swig of his beer and glancing over at Stiles. 

"Well," he started, "That's very convenient seeing as I've decided that the CIA just isn't for me. This will be my last case." Stiles said. He'd just decided that all of two seconds ago. But it was true. If Derek didn't hate his guts in a few weeks, or if Stiles wasn't behind bars, he didn't think he'd work for the CIA anymore. Too much stress. If he continued down that career path, then he would be grey haired by thirty. He would still look incredible obviously, but it wasn't ideal. 

Besides, he really wanted a relationship with Derek despite it all. 

"It's a great job. You'd be stupid to pass up the opportunity," Derek scolded, placing his beer on the table and making a point not to look at Stiles.

"Then I guess you were right . I'm just not meant for law enforcement, what with my rebellious streak." Stiles didn't miss the way Derek leaned closer to him when he sat back down. 

"Yeah? Are you talking about the way you stubbornly take your broken down car, or how you sing loudly on airplanes?" Derek asked, movie apparently forgotten. His full attention was suddenly on Stiles and it was great. 

"I was actually thinking about the time I stole that free balloon," Stiles explained. He wished he could say it was a joke, but Scott had dared him to do it junior year and Stiles was no chicken. Plus it was totally worth it from the way Derek was laughing. 

"Stiles I might have to arrest you for that one," he joked. Derek joked. It was a Christmas miracle. 

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Stiles teased. Except not really. Stiles totally wanted Derek to hand cuff him to a bed and have his way with him. But that was a completely normal fantasy to have about a coworker, right? Your very hot coworker who looks at you like he's thinking the same thing. 

"There is just something about you that makes me want to forget about everything else in the world," Derek mumbled, looking away from Stiles and letting his head fall back onto the couch. He rubbed his jaw roughly. "You're annoying, and fidgety, and stubborn, and messy, and have no regard for any rules. I should hate you," Derek said to himself. Or Stiles. He couldn't really tell or care, because Derek seemed like he was going to confess something very soon and that would most likely mean sexy time. 

"So you don't hate me..." Stiles said, scooting closer. 

"No, but it wasn't for lack of trying," he scoffed. "I think I might actually like you." Derek looked tilted his head to peek at him. "Can you believe that? There is absolutely no logical reason for it but I really like you," Derek continued his rant. Or at least it sounded like a rant. Maybe he had to say it in that disbelieving voice to be able to get it out. Stiles got the impression Derek was slightly emotionally constipated. 

But aside from that issue, Derek was actually admitting to liking Stiles a good amount. It was one thing to know it, but another to hear it said out loud. Stiles kind of didn't know what to say, and he knew he should say something or Derek would probably keep staring at him with that worried expression or leave, but nothing came to mind. 

He could have told Derek that he really liked him too, but they weren't in high school and every way he worded it in his head sounded juvenile. He wasn't going to say he thought Derek was hot. That was so insufficient. But this wasn't a romantic comedy and there would be no professions of love as long as he lived. So he just kind of sat there staring at the space where Derek used to be because he was standing.

"I'm just going to go," he said, backing up. 

"Wait!" Stiles nearly yelled. "You should stay, and we can watch more shitty movies and eat junk food." Stiles offered sheepishly after grabbing onto Derek's arm. Okay, so maybe he could have come off as a little less desperate. Maybe.

Derek gently detached Stiles hand. "I don't eat junk food," he started, "But I'm impartial to shitty movies." He sat back on the couch, placing his arm on the back of it. Stiles didn't hesitated to scoot closer and and rest the back of his head on Derek's bicep. 

"I'm going to need the jacket back though," Derek said halfway through the movie. 

"Over my dead body," Stiles replied, crossing his arms. Now that things had shifted, it was okay for Stiles to never give Derek his jacket back. Well he would give it back sometimes, but only so Derek would wear it and make it smell like him again. 

They finished Fired up! around 1:00, at which point they were both beginning to feel the day press down on them. But Stiles put in a third film. He couldn't remember what it was though, because he fell asleep before the previews, Derek hated sitting through it, but Stiles loved them, had even ended.

\-----

It was after an irregularly late night at the clinic, that Scott saw it. He drove by Stiles' apartment on his way him everyday because it was the fastest way home. A happy coincidence. So on his way home, Scott was surprised to see what looked like Agent Hale's car, he'd seen it on his last surprise visit, in Stiles' spot. At 1 o'clock in the morning. 

That meant two very important things. Stiles had come home from his trip and he hadn't told anyone. Which was actually normal for him. And that he was working faster than usual. It had been only a week or so and Derek was already spending the night. Scott knew Stiles would be seriously pissed, but he had to perform his best friend duties and interrupt. 

Especially after the way Stiles had acted when he and Allison had started dating. He'd been jealous, Scott got that, but it was three weeks of Stiles doing everything he could to ruin any alone time Scott got with Allison. And it was worse because Allison's parents had hated Scott and worked to ruin the relationship for months. It was a wonder they'd worked. 

They were meant for each other, Scott thought with a smile.

It didn't take any more deliberation. Scott parked in a guest spot and texted Allison that he would be a little late. He noticed the jeep was no where to be found. Probably waiting somewhere on the side of the road for a tow truck. Scott laughed and began climbing the steps to the third floor. He was a great friend, so he knocked first. 

No response.

Scott shook his head in disappointment as he searched his key chain for the key to Stiles' door. The place wasn't the best, a little old, so Scott had to jam the key in and wiggle it around for a bit before the door would give. He kept his eyes to the floor just in case Stiles decided he didn't care, it had happened before, and stepped inside. 

He was actually surprised. Year One was playing on the television and the both of them were asleep on the couch. Stiles was leaning on Derek and wearing his jacket. Well there was clearly something going on there, but Scott was just glad Stiles wasn't starting it with sex. That never ended well for him. 

Scott turned off the television and headed into Stiles room. He grabbed Stiles' comforter and tossed it over the pair. Then he grabbed the cans and beer bottles, god how could Stiles even sleep with Monster pumping through his veins, and tossed them in the trash. The rest of the place was a wreck and for some reason there was popcorn everywhere. Well Scott could only help so much. 

Then, after turning off the light and patting himself on the back, Scott let himself out, locking the door behind him. For some reason Stiles had no regard for his own safety and he never locked his door. Or maybe he was just that absent minded. Scott just wished he would try being a little more careful. Some people would be devastated if he wasn't around.


	7. More Than I Should

The first thing Stiles registered as he began to wake was how incredibly hot he was. It was unusual because Stiles was never hot in bed. He wore hardly anything to sleep and the blankets always found themselves off to the side. But as Stiles woke and began shifting, he realized it was more than clothes keeping him toasty.

Derek had his arm wrapped around Stiles' waist and was holding him close, definitely in his bubble. Plus there was a blanket. Stiles didn't remember getting that. As great as it was to wake up with Derek's jacket on, in his arms, Stiles was burning up. He squirmed slightly to see how much room he had and Derek didn't stir an inch. God, he slept like a rock.

The second thing that hit him was the memories of last night. Them actually hanging out, then cuddling, because for some insane reason, Derek actually liked Stiles as something more than just some annoying co worker. And that was saying something because over the last week Stiles had been on his absolute worst behavior.

So even though Stiles was right where he'd wanted to be since the moment he'd laid eyes on Derek, he really needed to get up. He was way too hot to be comfortable. Also he didn't know if Derek would regret what he'd said last night once the man woke. He'd had a few beers. It had been late. He could have very well been delirious. Stiles had to move.

Stiles discarded his end of the blanket and grabbed Derek's hand and slowly lifted it off of his side before sliding his back down the couch and onto the floor. Then he gently replaced himself with a small pillow and dropped Derek's arm onto that. When he didn't wake, Stiles sighed and began crawling towards the bathroom. He was so smooth. But somehow in his eagerness to escape, he'd forgotten about the bathroom door, which tended to slam loudly when it closed.

Stiles cringed and froze, listening for any sounds beyond his small bubble. When he heard nothing after a minute, he turned toward the mirror and allowed himself to think about last night. Derek had admitted to liking him. Sure he'd said that he shouldn't have because Stiles was incredibly annoying, but he wasn't picky about how hot guys came onto him. He would take what he could get.

And if Derek changed his mind when he woke up and took back the whole conversation or blamed it on the alcohol, Stiles would just change his mind back. If he'd charmed Derek once, he could do it again. Even with someone as emotionally backed up as that loaf. Stiles grinned at himself and turned towards the bathroom door just as he heard another door shut quietly.

He rushed out into his living room to find it empty. The comforter was folded up and placed at the end of the couch. Derek's phone was missing from the side table. Derek had snuck out as though last night had been some embarrassing one night stand that he would never think about again. Stile bit back the hurt. So Derek had definitely freaked out about it then.

At least he'd gotten to keep the jacket.

\-----

Derek woke early that morning. He always woke early. He'd developed a routine that his body followed even without an alarm clock. But for some reason, he didn't feel like following through with his morning jog and work out. It probably had to do with the Stiles that had fallen asleep practically draped on top of him. Still wearing the jacket, Derek thought with some satisfaction.

Derek had meant what he'd said last night, but he shouldn't have said it. He'd just been so relaxed. He'd been stupid to give Stiles false hope that they could be together though. There was just no way Derek could date his partner on a case. It was unethical, and it would distract him. Derek couldn't change his mind about that.

But Stiles had given him a small nugget of hope in return. He didn't plan to continue working with the CIA after their case. So after Derek caught his guy, he could try again with Stiles. If the man didn't hate him. Which he probably would. Derek was going to be public enemy number 1 as soon as Stiles woke up.

At least Derek could finally admit to himself that he was interested in Stiles. Derek could see something in him that made it worth giving Stiles a shot. Maybe admitting that he'd liked the man out loud, had made it easier to admit it to himself. Or maybe it had been the way he'd waved away all of Derek's arguments like they'd been nothing.

Or maybe it was how right Stiles felt in his arms.

Not wanting to ruin it just yet, Derek let his eyes slide shut. He just wanted to relax and relish the feeling. Unfortunately, it was only a few more minutes before Stiles was squirming around. Derek panicked and faked sleep as he managed to slip out of Derek's hold and replace himself with a pillow. What an idiot.

Derek listened as Stiles scurried off. Then slammed what sounded like the bathroom door. Was he even trying to be quiet? Derek sighed and stood up. When Stiles came out they would have to talk. He folded up the blanket and placed it where he'd been sitting then took in the living room. It was a mess, and he intended to start picking up while he waited for Stiles to come out of hiding.

Except his phone started ringing. Derek snatched it from the table and answered before Stiles heard it. It was Laura, and as much as he wanted to hang up and not say a word, he knew she would keep calling. He hadn't told her a thing last night and she would bug him until he gave her every last detail. Sighing, he rushed out the front door of Stiles' apartment, closing it softly behind himself.

"What do you want?" Derek asked, making it clear he knew what she wanted and wasn't going to be divulging anything.

"He sounded cute," she started. Derek could't fight the sigh as he leaned against the wall in the hall. "Oh come on, you have to tell me something," she whined.

"It was a coworker," Derek told her simply. He knew it wasn't enough, but he tried anyway.

"Right, because you invite coworkers over to your house at midnight all the time," she said sarcastically. Derek felt himself get frustrated. She knew just how to rile him up and she knew he didn't think once he was mad.

"We aren't at my place," Derek let out by accident. Derek hit his forehead against the wall once he realized what he'd said.

"So you stayed the night," She said excitedly. "How long has this been going on? Have you been over there the last two days? Is he actually a coworker? When do I get to meet him?" Derek bumped his head against the wall once more.

"Nothing is going on, no, yes, and never." Derek answered, in resignation. He could practically hear the excitement drain from her end.

"Fine, stick with that story. I just wanted to be able to talk with you about something since you never call. It's like we aren't even related. We just go out every once in a blue moon then you sign off on your completed brotherly duties for the week. If you don't want to have a relationship just tell me Derek. I can take it." Laura's voice cracked.

She was bluffing. He'd been able to tell the difference between her real tears and the fake ones for years. So he knew she was bluffing. But Derek was weak. The fact that he could tell the difference only made him feel guilty for causing the real thing so many times in the past. And she knew it. Laura knew how to play him. Derek growled and began stalking towards the stairs. He hadn't wanted to leave, but he couldn't talk about Stiles while right outside his door.

Stiles would probably be super pissed when he came out of the bathroom to find Derek gone, but he would call the man right after he was done talking to his sister. It probably wouldn't take that long. If he told her enough, maybe Derek could finish quicker and call Stiles back before he even noticed Derek had left. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.

"I like him," Derek said once he'd gotten down one flight of stairs. The stairwell echoed and made him cringe. It sounded worse out loud. Laura immediately cut off the whimpering noises she'd been making.

"Tell me more," Laura gushed. He could hear scraping on her end. Great, she was getting comfortable.

Derek didn't continue until he'd gotten downstairs and stepped outside onto the sidewalk. "His name is Stiles, and he does work with me. There's something there but nothing's happened. I don't want anything to happen. You know I don't like to mix work and dating." Derek explained, thanking God when he found his keys in his pocket. Anything to get his mind off of what he was saying.

Laura squealed as Derek scanned the parking lot for his car. "I knew it. So tell me what he's like. He isn't as boring as you is he?" She asked without a hint of regret. Derek scoffed but knew she was teasing.

"He's a lot of things but he definitely isn't boring," he said more to himself than anything as he spotted his car and headed for it. Laura made a noise in the back of her throat and he knew that was an order to continue. "He's fidgety, and annoying, and messy, and rude, and outgoing, and talkative. He eats like a five year old, hardly sleeps, and he has no regard for his own safety. And he's incredibly smart. Smarter than he looks. Oh and he's cute." Derek cut himself off realizing he was babbling. Laura didn't need to know quite so much. He was glad she couldn't see him blush as he opened his car door and slid inside.

"Awwww, he sounds amazing. When do I get to meet him?" Laura sounded about as excited as Derek had and that was saying something. But even though he clearly liked Stiles, it was way too soon to let his sister any where near him.

"Later. Way later. Think months," Derek shot her down and started his car. It was funny how much her groan sounded like his engine. He almost smiled as he pulled out of the parking lot and started for his apartment.

"Deeeerrreeeek," She whined. "Come ooooooon." His phone beeped. Low battery.

"Sorry sis, my battery is dead. I gotta go," he said quickly, hanging up before she could get another word out.

Derek let a sigh slip between his lips and felt himself relax. Laura was his sister and he loved her but she was exhausting. Small doses were the key. He plugged his phone into his car charger and dialed Stiles number at a red light. He knew Laura would be at his apartment by the time he got there. Obviously she wasn't logging enough hours at the bar she worked at.

Stiles' phone went to voice mail. So either he was in the shower or he was ignoring Derek. Maybe it hadn't been the best decision, leaving like that, but Stiles didn't have to act like a child. His immaturity was the exact reason he'd been hesitant to give him a chance. Clearly he'd been right. Derek left him a voice mail and proceeded to get himself all worked up. Then as he pulled his car into his space, he realized where Stiles' phone was.

In a broken down jeep on the side of the road somewhere.

\-----

When Scott walked through the door around lunch time, Stiles had been lying face down on his couch, in his pajamas, cursing Derek. It was Saturday. Derek probably wouldn't call until Monday and even then he would probably act like nothing had changed. What a dick. Stiles really wished it all changed how he felt about that dick.

"So I guess things didn't go too well with Derek, huh?" Scott asked. Stiles glared up at his friend who was sitting on the popcorn covered floor just by his head. "How did you know he was here? How did you know I got back? What did you do?" Stiles fired them off, pushing himself up. God, it was like Scott had no boundaries. Stiles had _never_ done _anything_ to deserve that.

"I may have dropped by last night. But you should be thanking me. I left you a blanket and I cleaned up," Scott defended. Stiles scoffed, but glanced around. He hadn't really noticed the lack of bottles.

"Thanks...?" Stiles muttered before letting his head drop back onto the couch. Scott sighed loudly.

"So are you going to tell me about it or am I going to have to go stalk Derek and ask him?" Scott asked, standing.

"No!" Stiles shouted into the cushions and grabbed his arm without looking up and, pulling his best friend back down. Scott would just embarrass him. He was way too good at that.

"Last night he kind of admit that he might have liked me as something more than coworkers, but then today he dipped while I was in the bathroom." Stiles lifted his head briefly then dropped it back onto the couch. Okay, so maybe he was being a little over dramatic.

"Has he called?" Scott asked without missing a beat. Stiles shot up. His phone was in his car. Probably ringing because Derek was probably calling him because he wasn't a total dick. Stiles hoped.

He jumped to his feet and rushed to his room where he pulled on jeans and chucks. Stiles tossed Derek's jacket onto his bed and pulled on a t-shirt. He considered his usual button down, but decided with a grin the jacket would be plenty. Scott was still sitting on the floor when Stiles shot out of his room and opened the front door for them. He bounced on his feet while waiting for Scott to get the message.

"Today Scott. My phone is with my baby, and she's alone on the side of the road. He might be calling right now," Stiles urged him. Scott smiled smugly but lead the way.

"Be careful Stiles. Desperation isn't a good color on anyone," Scott teased. Stiles just bumped him as he passed his friend. They both knew no one had ever been more desperate than Scott when he'd first met Allison. So Stiles could be mature and let it go. He would just wait patiently at the car door while Scott took his sweet time.

"Hurry up!" Stiles yelled, pulling on the door handle over and over. Scott rolled his eyes but sped up.

"Are you taking your medication?" Scott asked, half serious as he unlocked the doors and slid in. Stiles scoffed and followed suit. He totally hadn't in like 2 or 3 days, but he felt perfectly fine. And Scott didn't need to know that. Stiles could take care of himself.

"All on time, mom," Stiles antagonized, turning to look out the window. It would be forever before they got to his phone. Derek was probably calling him like crazy. Or maybe he remembered that Stiles had been forced to leave all of his electronics behind. He hoped not. Stiles needed the missed calls to not feel at ease with the whole stupid situation.

"Liar. I'm just trying to make sure you take care of yourself," Scott scolded. Stiles knew he was sending him the puppy dog eyes, so he intentionally kept his gaze locked on the window.

"I am," Stiles assured him though. Just because Scott would be annoying all day if he didn't.

The rest of the ride was silent save for Stiles telling Scott where his care was waiting. Stiles tapped his foot, then his fingers, then shook his thigh in anticipation. He knew he was getting all worked up over nothing, but he couldn't help it. He just needed to be sure that he wouldn't be getting a letter from Derek in a week saying his services would no longer be needed.

When they finally got to the jeep, Scott had barely come to a stop before Stiles was jumping out of the car and heading for his baby. He jammed Scott's spare key and unlocked her, finding his own set of keys still in his ignition, his ipod and phone on the seat right where Stiles had left them, perfectly safe and dry. And dead.

He groaned and glared over at Scott who was texting someone on his phone. From that goofy grin Stiles knew it was Allison. He marched over after slamming baby's door. "This was a terrible idea," he informed his best friend before climbing back into his car.

Scott didn't even look up from his phone. He just walked around the car and got back into the drivers seat while texting Allison back. "If it's dead, you can just use my charger," Scott offered, not looking up from his phone.

"Oh, you just have a solution for everything, don't you Mr. Rational? Well where is this convenient char-" Stiles stopped mid sentence when he spotted the black cable hanging out of the console. "Oh. Thanks." He said awkwardly, plugging in his android.

Stiles had to wait a minute for it to get some juice first. Then as Scott was pulling away, that annoying jingle started playing and the phone started up. It took ridiculously long for the stupid thing to find service. Then there were no new messages, missed calls, or voice mails. Oh. So Derek hadn't called.

Scott didn't say anything. Stiles' face said it all. Which meant that Derek had freaked out so badly that he'd dipped first thing in the morning and hadn't even thought to call. Stiles thought of the excitement in his sister's voice at the mention of a date. Maybe Derek was just so socially awkward he sucked at these things. That seemed about right.

But Stiles' justifications flew out the window when his phone buzzed. He looked down to see one missed call. From Derek. From over an hour ago. God he was so stupid. His phone always took a while to receive messages after booting up. In his excitement he'd completely forgotten what a piece of shit it was. He listened to the voice mail.

_Call me back when you can. We need to talk._

That didn't sound good. Derek sounded all frustrated and not at all like he actually wanted to talk to Stiles. He also noticed the lack of apology in the voicemail. But what ever, he wasn't petty. Stiles called him back, waiting as it rang. And rang. And rang. Then it went to voice mail. He didn't leave one, they had a tendency to come out awkward and embarrassing. 

"What a dick," he muttered, dropping his phone in the middle console and resuming his staring out the window. 

"But he called," Scott defended him. Traitor. Stiles crossed his arms even though he knew it made him look like a child. Whatever. 

"But he didn't apologize or leave an explanation. He was just like 'call me back.' No 'hey,' or 'what's up'. What a moody little shit. And then he doesn't pick up when I call," Stiles complained. Yeah he was a moody little shit too, but it was cute when he did it. Derek was just a dick. 

"Bummer," Scott replied. Stiles looked over at his friend who seemed concentrated on the road. traitorous bastard.

"That's it? Those are your words of wisdom?" Stiles questioned, throwing his hands up in the air. A small voice told him he totally deserved all of this from the way he used to torture Allison and Scott, but he ignored that. 

"Hey, you don't need my help, you've got this. If you were cuddling in a week, I'm sure this will be resolved in less time," Scott tried to reassure him in that stupid rational tone that Stiles hated. He also hated that Scott had seen him cuddling. And he hated Derek. He just hated everything. 

He huffed and crossed his arms, staring straight ahead. If Scott was going to give him bad advice, then Stiles was just going to ignore him. It was already past 12:30 anyways. Scott was late for his lunch with Allison and would have to the restaurant they always went to the moment he dropped off Stiles. Which he did, only adding a quick 'bye', and 'good luck' as he sped away.

Stiles didn't know what he was supposed to do with the rest of his Saturday without his computer. Or an awful job at Best Buy. Danny was probably with Ethan, Jackson was a horrible human being, and Lydia would want to go shopping or talk about the wedding. Stiles wasn't that desperate yet. So he pulled out his phone and hit his fifth speed dial contact. 

He needed to get his car towed. 

\-----

It turned out that Stiles had worse luck than he'd thought. His car, when they finally got it to the mechanic, was going to run him a bill of $2,500. And there was only one problem that had to be fixed immediately. He needed to replace the injection pump. He didn't even know what that was, but apparently it was important and expensive. 

He was glad he had a serious bundle of cash in a savings account. It was comprised of his father's life insurance money that he hadn't touched over the last few years. It added up to about $50,000 tucked away. So obviously it wasn't that he didn't have the money, he just didn't want to spend it. He couldn't bring himself to use any of it. 

His dad would have wanted him to use it, but Stiles felt like using it would be admitting that it was a fair trade off. And it wasn't. He would give every cent back if he could have his dad back. But seeing as he needed a car, and that was the only savings he had at the moment, Stiles knew he would have no choice. 

He bit the bullet and handed his shiny, unused debit card over to the large man behind the counter. It didn't hurt as badly as he thought it would when he was handed his card back, but he did feel like he'd given something. His car wouldn't be ready until Sunday so Stiles hurried back outside where Joe was waiting for him. The man had offered to take him back home, and Stiles wasn't going to pass that up. 

Joe was this real thick guy who never left his house in the morning without this greasy truckers cap that he'd had for years. But besides that awful thing, he was actually pretty awesome. And his wife was irrationally attractive in comparison. Joe was great, but he wasn't Brad Pitt. His wife was most definitely Angelina Jolie. And he had a daughter who was cute as a button and had just turned five.

Stiles got him going on his family and listened to him ramble about them the whole way home. But he suspected Joe was doing that on purpose. Because if he did stop talking about his family, he would have to ask Stiles about his. The whole town seemed to tip toe around the topic of Stiles' family, and he really didn't mind. It meant no awkward moments. 

Stiles waved to Joe as the man pulled away and he hurried back up to his apartment. He stood in the center of his living room and peered into his kitchen, then at the couch. If he wanted to be responsible, he could clean up, because his place was more of a mess than usual. He didn't though. Stiles thought about how Derek thought he was messy, and decided to leave it that way. Just to spite him. The same reason he was still wearing the jacket. 

He ignored his mess and strode over to his desk. Stiles gently placed the computer he'd acquired from his car onto his desk. She seemed to be intact. He sat down and stretched out his legs, booting up. But before he could even log into his account, there was a loud banging on the door. Stiles sagged considerably. He tugged off Derek's jacket and tossed it onto the couch before dragging himself to the door. 

He knew it was Derek. No one else he knew knocked on his door, and if they did, they didn't do it like that. Right before Stiles opened the door he tried to figure out where he was. He was obviously mad at Derek for being kind of a dick, but the guy was also emotionally constipated. So Stiles just had to be the picture of understanding. And he had to be on his best behavior. 

When he swung open the door and plastered a grin on his face, it was a young woman on his doorstep.

\-----

Lydia glanced at her watch once more and tapped her heel against the floor. She had to be back at work in an hour and she just knew that Allison was late because she couldn't tear herself away from Scott. They would be so precious if they weren't constantly doing that. But at least Allison had switched shifts so they could talk about the wedding. Apparently there had been a crisis. 

Allison rushed into the cafe with a goofy grin five minutes later. She plopped back down on the chair and attempted to fix her messy hair, settling on a bun. It was a sure sign that she'd jogged the whole way and Lydia couldn't not smile at that. "So what was the wedding emergency?" Lydia asked her, pulling out the binder they'd begun putting together. 

The smile vanished from Allison's face and she bit her lip. "The venue," she started, scooting closer to Lydia. "We wanted to get married in the forest, but there's a buyer who is bidding on the property, and it will have gone through by the date we set." Lydia simply shrugged and crossed out the wedding date written on the first page.

"That's nothing. We'll just move it up," Lydia explained easily. Allison's looked no more relieved.

"The last opening before they sell that area is two weeks from now. Lydia, you can do anything, but I think this is beyond your means." Lydia's grin faltered at that. Two weeks was a time crunch but she could do it. She could do anything. 

"No, we can do this. I know you haven't gotten your dress yet. What time do you have to work," Lydia asked, slipping into business mode. She ripped out the few pages they'd filled and retrieved a pen from her bag. They would have to start from scratch, and Lydia would have to start making calls as soon as she got home. Who needed sleep. She was the maid of honor and she would do this. 

"I took the rest of the day off," Allison said, one of her dimples showing. 

"Okay, perfect. We're going to go find a dress today. If we find it, we can rush the alterations and it should be done in time," Lydia ordered, standing and closing her binder. 

She knew a woman who could work wonders with a needle and she owed Lydia a favor. Then they would get the chairs, flowers, and minister. And the arch that Allison wanted to get married under. But if Lydia couldn't rent one, she knew a guy who could build one. She also needed to take care of catering, but she had an idea about that too. It would all work out. 

"Do you really think this could work?" Allison asked hopefully. Lydia rolled her eyes and grabbed her friend's hand. 

"Of coarse. Don't doubt me. Now lets go," she demanded with a grin. Allison's was as wide as her own. 

Allison called the mayor to save the date before someone else did. Then she called Scott to tell him he needed to get his suit. They had already agreed on regular black and white, but Scott insisted on a bow tie so the groomsmen would have ties. Then Lydia took her phone because she wouldn't have anyone interrupting their dress shopping time. They were in a rush, but not so much that she would be robbed of her bonding time. 

It took about two hours, but they got the perfect dress, and veil, that made Allison tear up. Lydia would not under any circumstances admit that she was in the same state. The dress only had to be altered slightly, so they immediately took it to Lydia's friend. She worked from her home and even though she frowned and made a fuss, she promised to have it ready in time. 

Lydia then ferried Allison to her and Scott's apartment where they began making calls. Lydia had to call in all of her favors but it actually seemed like the wedding would be possible. And not only possible, but just like Allison had imagined it. The only concession they'd had to make was abandoning their ballroom for the reception. But Lydia quickly solved that problem too. 

"Lydia, you are unstoppable," Allison said once Lydia hung up with the florist.

"I try," she said with a grin, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. She was pretty amazing. 

"Well thank you. This is happening a lot faster than I ever thought, but I'm so glad you're here to help." Lydia took her hand as Allison began tearing up again. 

"Are you sure you're ready though. Two weeks is really soon, and Scott is great but he would understand if you wanted to wait." Lydia assured her. Number one on a bridesmaid's list of things to do was take care of the bride. If Allison wasn't ready then Lydia would be the first one to object to their marriage. Allison sniffled and shot her a small grin. 

"Of coarse I'm ready. I've been waiting for this moment since the day I met him."

\-----

Stiles had been shocked, to say the least, when Scott had called him and told him about the wedding being moved up. By months. Lydia was a miracle worker, they all knew it, but even that seemed impossible to accomplish. Regardless, Stiles dragged himself out of bed and accompanied Scott and Jackson to get their tuxedos. 

Scott had tried on his first, and Stiles had to admit he looked like a groom. He stepped up to the little platform and tied Scott's bow tie, because the dope had no clue how to do it himself. Then he brushed off his friend's shoulders and took a step back. Wow, that bastard was finally going to get married. 

"Do you guys need a moment, because I can step out..." Jackson interrupted, already in his tux. Danny came up behind him and bumped his shoulder. 

"Let them have it," Danny scolded him. Stiles took it as his cue to try put on his own. 

It may have taken him a while to get it on, he wasn't good with buttons, but he had to admit, he looked good. He kind of wanted to go visit Derek in that outfit, not even he would be able to resist it. But then he would have to call Stiles back first, which he still hadn't. But Laura told him that he couldn't take it personally. Derek was just emotionally stunted. 

She'd really enlightened him over her visit. She was a lot nicer than Derek had made her seem. And she'd actually wanted to help Stiles get Derek. That was a major plus because she knew everything about him. He told her everything too, including how very much he liked Stiles, despite running out like a coward. Stiles shoved that thought from his mind and stepped out of the dressing room.

"Are we good? Because Lydia said if we had any problems we had to suck it up and deal." Scott explained, fidgeting with his cuffs. 

"We're great," Stiles assured him, stepping up beside his friend. "Allison is going to love it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking of adding a whole bunch of romantic cliches into one of the chapters when Derek and Stiles finally work it out. I'm accepting suggestions if you guys want anything in particular. Just leave any situations you want in the comments and I might add it in. 
> 
> Enjoy ^.^


	8. Little Do You Know

*(Saturday) Two days ago*

"So you're him?" The woman asked, hip cocked and mouth curled up pensively. She was dressed in tight jeans, a pink tank top, and heels. A small black purse hung daintily from her wrist and her dark hair was pulled into a pony tail. And she was gorgeous, but Stiles was more concerned with the fact that he didn't have a clue who this girl was. 

"Um, who am I?" Stiles asked, leaning on his open door and trying to think of the last person he'd unknowingly been nice to. Maybe he'd picked up a stalker.

"You should be nicer to your future sister in law, Stiles. Now are you going to let me in or not?" She asked in an overly sweet voice. 

Stiles immediately stepped aside as he recognized the voice. It was Derek's sister. "It's nice to meet you, Laura, but what are you doing here?"

"Oh I just came to chat, see who my brother is so infatuated with," She explained stepping inside and dropping onto the couch. 

Stiles took in the mess the way she had, but when he turned back towards Laura, she was looking at him with a critical gaze. "He isn't infatuated. He might've been yesterday when he had a few beers in him, but not this morning." Stiles plopped down beside her. 

"Oh he totally is," Laura said, suddenly getting excited. She turned to Stiles, switching into gossip. "He told me all about his major crush this morning. What did he do to you?"

"He left while I was in the bathroom," Stiles muttered, covering his face in embarrassment. 

"Oh, he's just emotionally constipated. But he told me all about how cute, and smart, and fidgety, and messy you are. But he loves it." Stiles raised an eyebrow in disbelief. He'd talked to his sister about him?

"He didn't even call."

"Emotionally constipated," she repeated, grabbing Stiles' hand. "Just don't give up on him, he really needs something besides work."

"I don't think he's giving me much of a choi- Ow!" He jerked away as Laura smacked him. "What was that for?"

"Giving up. Now get a notepad. If you listen to me, you'll have Derek by the end of the week."

*Sunday*

Derek didn't call back. 

But Stiles was super busy anyways. He had to go pickup his car. And drive her home. And that took up a lot of time and mental focus. Plus he had to hang out with Scott since Allison was busy with Lydia, calling places like mad and trying to arrange a last minute ceremony. So really, Stiles had been super busy. He hadn't been waiting by his cell or obsessing or anything.

That wasn't like him at all.

*Monday*

Derek didn't call back. 

Stiles was busy anyways. He had been hired by Lydia to take care of catering. She had told him that he had free reign, but if he fucked up, she would personally see to it that he never saw the light of day again. But that was cool. No pressure. It wasn't like he was counting on living so he could put Laura's advice to use. 

Lydia had decided since the wedding was going to be in the forest, the reception needed to be close by. She chose an open courtyard that was just across the street, and attached to some government building. But the courtyard was pretty enough and Lydia would no doubt decorate it flawlessly. It was big enough for a dance floor and tables, but Lydia needed Stiles to figure out the catering. 

Genius that he was, he decided to think outside the box. He called a dozen different food trucks and checked their availability, which left him with eight that were free. Then he wrote down their rates, because even he knew that wedding food was supposed to be free for the guests. Then he called Lydia to make sure he hadn't just ruined the wedding. 

"Stiles, I literally have thirty seconds before I have to hang up, so make it quick," Lydia greeted. He heard papers shuffling in the background. The wedding planning was probably running her so thin. 

"Well I was thinking that since the reception is outdoors, we could do food trucks. And it's within the budget you gave me." 

"Congratulations, that's actually a great Idea. Bye," she said before hanging up. Well at least she said goodbye that time. 

*Tuesday*

Derek still hadn't called. 

Okay, at this point Stiles had to admit he was getting anxious. Was Derek so freaked out that he was dropping the case all together? It was his only way to avenge his family and Stiles doubted he was that influential, but he was worried. Maybe Derek had found someone else to help him, and since Stiles had wanted to quit, that was Derek's way of letting him go. 

So he sat at home and worried about whether he still had a job, and if the guy replacing him was nearly as good. Probably not. Stiles had been checking his computer every so often just in case and there was no sign of anyone trying to hack him. So then maybe Derek had just given up. His dead family wasn't enough motivation to catch the uncatchable. 

Or even worse, maybe the CIA had pulled him from the case just as he'd feared, and it was all Stiles' fault. Plus he was a wimp so he couldn't call about it. There were endless scenarios running wild in his mind, and Stiles was somehow to blame for all of them. So instead of going out, he stayed in, played computer games, and ate ice cream.

*Wednesday*

Derek, the kindest, most considerate, person in the world, showed up. 

But that was putting it kindly. That asshole decided to come to Stiles' apartment at 7 o'clock in morning and bang loudly on the door until Stiles dragged his ass out of bed and opened it. He'd only been wearing boxers and a glare when he found Derek on the other side in jeans and a tan jacket. The man hadn't even reacted. Just swept his eyes briefly over Stiles and brushed past him.

Stiles scoffed and slammed the door before marching past that asshole, who was just standing in the middle of the room, and charged into his room. He yanked on some jeans and his red hoodie. To be honest he didn't want to go out there at all, he didn't want to fake getting along, pretend he was okay, but technically it was his job now. 

"What do you want?" Stiles asked, heading straight for the coffee machine. He'd run out of RedBull and was too lazy to go buy more so coffee was the only option. 

"I know you're probably super pissed, and you want an apology or explanation, but could we just wait until the end of the week. Then we can talk about everything. This is really important," Derek said in the closest thing to begging Stiles had ever heard. He looked so tired and hopeful that Stiles was caught off guard. He felt all of the anger rush out of him. 

"Where were you this week?" Stiles asked after an uncomfortably long silence. Derek sighed. Stiles placed a cup under the machine and anxiously watched it fill, tapping a finger on the counter top. When it was finished, he took a seat at his desk and booted up his computer.

"We were exploring other options. They wanted me to try out different consultants." Derek seemed as unhappy about it as Stiles had been, which helped. 

"So the other hackers didn't do the trick?" He asked innocently, taking a sip from his steaming mug. He logged on and listened to Derek approach. The man leaned over him and tossed a piece of paper on the desk.

"They verified that the signal definitely originated in Beacon Hills." He stated tersely. Stiles glanced down at it and fought the panic that rose suddenly.

If they could find his hometown, they could find his address. That wasn't good. But then, if Derek was in his living room, that meant they'd hit a dead end. So logically Stiles had nothing to worry about him. Except that seeing his home town on that paper made it all too real. It could actually catch up to him if he wasn't careful and that freaked the shit out of him. 

Stiles dropped the papers onto his desk. He needed to end it. But he needed to end it in a way that Derek could still win. They guy was running himself ragged to figure out who killed his parents, Plus Stiles really, really, really liked him and thought he deserved to be happy. But was it going to be Derek's happiness or Stile's freedom? 

He needed to stall.

"So what do you want me to do?" Stiles asked, swiveling in his chair to face Derek. The look on Derek's face was so defeated it took Stiles completely by surprise. It made Stiles want to get up and wrap his arms around him. Stiles had the sense to know that was off limits at the moment, though. 

"I don't even know at this point." Derek said, rubbing his jaw roughly. "Isn't there anything you can do to refine the search? I mean we gathered that there's a connection, we just can't figure out what it is. He lives close to you, he trashed your computer. He never targeted any of the other consultants. So we just need to figure out what makes you so special. Is it because you're the best? Because he's fixated?. I just don't know. And if I don't figure this out by Friday, I'm done. I'm off the case, and if he continues to target you, I can't do a thing," Derek rambled, turning away from Stiles dropping down on the couch. 

Stiles felt the guilt build in his stomach as he watched the back of Derek's head fall onto the couch. The man covered his face with his hands. Stiles was wrecking Derek's career, his life, and any peace of mind he'd ever had, and for what? Escape from a crime Stiles had knowingly committed? He was literally the worst human being who ever lived. That wasn't even taking into account the fact that Stiles wanted something real with Derek. 

He didn't need to think about it much more than that. Stiles wanted more than anything for there to be an easy way out, but there was no escape that left every one unscathed. He wouldn't ruin Derek just so he could keep living his life. It wasn't an option. As much as Stiles regretted starting it all, he knew there was no going back. He was just going to have to figure out how to survive in prison. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad. He really hoped Scott would forgive him for missing the big day. 

"It's me." 

Derek turned his head to glance back at Stiles and raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm the Black Fox," Stiles bit down on the inside of his mouth hard to keep from apologizing. Or babbling about how much he wanted to undo it all. 

Derek stood in a flash, storming over to Stiles. Exhaustion had been replaced with the usual anger. "Stiles, what the fuck? Do you even know what you're saying. I don't know if you're pissed, or if you think you're being funny, but I'd really appreciate if you'd take this seriously. This is my career, my sanity, on the line! You can't just make wild accusations, even if they're against yourself. If you said that to anyone else, they would book you in a second. I wouldn't get to find the real guy and you would be prosecuted because you have the skills and location in common." He lectured like Stiles didn't know. That was the only reason he was giving up years of his life. So Derek could actually get a chance at having one. 

"I'm not joking. I'm him. He's me. You want proof, I can show you," Stiles offered. He spun back around to his computer and began searching for any files that could incriminate him. He would literally be undoing years of work, but he could live with that. Or at least, that's what he was telling himself. He just had to get through a few more minutes. 

"Stop." Derek ordered. Something about his voice made Stiles listen. "Don't you dare pull up anything." Derek crossed his arms. "Just don't tell me anything. If I don't know, I'm not obligated to arrest you," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

Stiles watched him pace as he deliberated what to do. Stiles suddenly felt more guilty than before. Derek was trying to decide what to do, he was burdened with knowing the truth and Stiles couldn't undo that. "Just arrest me. I want to go to jail," Stiles insisted, standing and shoving his wrists at Derek. Derek froze and stared at them blankly. 

"You can't be serious."

"I want you to go get the guy who killed your parents," Stiles said in what he hoped was a motivational voice. "I don't really have anything important going on."

"Just because I've been trying to accomplish that for years, doesn't mean I'm going to undermine my morals to do it," Derek argued. 

"You're hardly undermining your morals. I'm a criminal, I belong in jail," Stiles said. He didn't understand why Derek was being so difficult. Was the thing they had really that much of an obstacle? Derek had barely admit to liking him. 

"No, you're Stiles. Funny, idiotic Stiles, who would not last a day in prison." Derek began pacing again."You broke the law, you impeded an investigation, you should be in prison for years, but I'm not going to do it. I wouldn't be able to live with myself." Stiles tried not to be touched by the sentiment. By the way, he was so not an idiot. "I just need to think about this." Derek said. 

And just like that, he was rushing out the door, leaving Stiles alone and confused. He wasn't sure what solution Derek would be coming up with that Stiles hadn't been able to think of. Jail was the only clean way out. Then they could all go on with there lives, and Stiles could fulfill his life long dream of leaning how to shank someone.

\-----

Derek strolled briskly down the sidewalk trying to collect his thoughts.

The few days he hadn't been able to do anything but worry about his job and Stiles. He should have called Stiles back, but after he'd pulled into his space that morning, he'd been called into work. His boss had reamed him for half an hour before forbidding any contact with Stiles until further notice. Derek would have to try out different contacts if he wanted to continue on the case.

Of coarse, his boss had meant it in a professional sense, but by the time Derek got home that night, he couldn't bring himself to dial. He knew Stiles would be pissed that he'd left like that. He probably thought Derek regret it all. And the voice mail he'd left had been less than friendly. As much as Derek hated to admit it, he was actually scared of that twerp. Stiles was interested in Derek for some ungodly reason, and Derek was sure Saturday had been enough to change that. So he put it off. 

That coupled with the reality of what was happening, had been wearing on him. Derek had come to the conclusion that there was no way he would close that case. Especially when he caught sight of his new consultants. The first, was an older, balding man who couldn't read print smaller than extra large. The second, a young woman, talked the entire time she worked, brushing her obnoxious bangs out of her face. She had traced the original signal back to beacon hills. 

That had thrown a wrench in everything. 

Derek couldn't believe the Black Fox had been living in the same town as Stiles the whole time. It made Derek think he had something against Stiles. He had blown up his computer too, and he hadn't gone after Derek's other consultants. That alone had Derek convinced that Stiles was in danger and Derek had to be around to protect him.

So he convinced his boss to let him take on Stiles until the end of the week. Derek could keep an eye on Stiles, ensuring his safety, and he could see if there was any chance they could catch the Black Fox. Plus Derek could gauge exactly how mad at him Stiles was. After days of no contact, Derek was honestly expecting a punch or two. 

But Stiles had gone and flipped everything. He couldn't be the Black Fox! It was ridiculous. That would have meant that Stiles had been fooling him the whole time. That everything he'd said and done had been to keep Derek from catching him. That hurt a lot more than he was willing to admit. And as he thought back to every hitch and reluctance on Stiles' part, it made sense. 

But even if Stiles had faked everything, Derek hadn't had to deliberate too long. He wouldn't turn in Stiles. It just wasn't possible. Derek had those stupid feelings for Stiles that made him incapable of ruining the boy's life. Even if Stile more than deserved to go to prison, all Derek could think about was his smart ass getting handed to him. He couldn't do that to him, hurt as he was.

Unfortunately, that didn't make it any easier to figure out how to handle the information. Derek sighed and dropped down on a bench that sat on the edge of a park. He hadn't even realized he'd walked so far. Stiles really knew how to wreck his brain. He had been doing it to help Derek, but admitting to the crime had been the worst choice he could have made. 

Now presented with his options, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't turn Stiles in because of his feelings, but that meant he would not only be risking his career and freedom, but he would also be throwing away his chance at getting that file and finding out who killed his family. Oddly enough, Derek didn't find that as upsetting as he might have a week ago. 

Now for some reason, he found that maybe there were other options. Surely he could do something else in later years to earn that privilege once again. And it had already been so many years, the case was beyond cold, so what were a few more. And Laura would be happy if he took a little break from obsessing about it all. Chances were she would give him a break. 

But as easy as it was to put all of that on the back burner for a moment, Derek knew that all wasn't suddenly solved. He still had potential jail time on his hands for the both of them and he had no idea what to do. On a less vital note, there were his hurt feelings to deal with, but he found that not even those could interfere with his urge to save Stiles.

Derek rubbed his face roughly and looked out at the dozens of children running and screaming. He wished he could go back to when it was all that simple. When the only thing that had mattered was whether one of the swings was open. Derek chuckled softly to himself as he thought back to it. How his sister used to bribe the other kids with candy to give them up. 

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Derek. He was on his feet and jogging back the way he'd come before a minute had passed. It was so obvious Derek wanted to hit himself for not thinking of it sooner. And it would be so easy, they would be off the hook by the end of the week. Stiles wouldn't go to jail and he wouldn't be forced to fake any interest in Derek. And Derek could go back to focusing on work. 

Dating just wasn't for him.

\-----

Stiles stared at the empty pill case next to his computer, trying to distract himself from his worrying brain. He tapped the cap and absentmindedly thought back to the last time he'd taken them. It had been over a week ago. He'd really only started taking them to focus in school, then on his...extracurriculars, so he didn't feel all that bad about it. 

Scott just worried about Stiles getting to ramped up and getting himself into trouble but it wasn't like Stiles was going crazy or anything. Sure, he was more twitchy, and maybe a little louder, just like high school. But that wasn't so bad. That just meant he couldn't sit still like he used to. And all the trouble he'd gotten into had been while he'd been on the drugs. 

Stiles sighed as he looked over at the clock for the hundredth time. Derek had left thirty minutes ago and still there was no sign of him. That guy seriously needed to work on his communication skills because Stiles was more than a little confused. Maybe he could give the guy a heads up next time he left without explanation. 

When he heard the knock at the door, Stiles flew from his seat and threw it open, hoping Derek was ready to arrest him. A few more hours and Stiles might chicken out, fleeing the country. Unfortunately, that was still on the table, because it wasn't Derek at the door. Scott was standing on his door step, tapping his foot on the floor. 

"Dude, didn't you get my text? We need to go now." Scott said, reaching in and grabbing Stiles' arm. He yanked Stiles out of his apartment and halfway down the hall before he thought to resist. 

"Where are we going? And hold up, I have to grab my phone and my wallet and close my doo-ow!" Stiles pulled away and rubbed his arm where he was probably bruised. 

"Everyone is waiting for us at the coffee shop, and Lydia is going to have an aneurysm if we don't get there soon. I have work in an hour and she's so stressed she was already snapping at Jackson. So you need to be ready five minutes ago," Scott rambled, reaching out to grab Stiles once more. His quickly impending nuptials and on edge maid of honor had to be getting to him because he hadn't looked that stressed since he and Allison had broken up that one time in high school. 

"I can't make it. Derek and I have a huge...issue with the case. He should be back any minute and he'll kill me if I'm not here," Stiles explained already backing up. He hoped he looked sorry, but he couldn't just leave when he could be going to prison any minute. Scott didn't seem to care much.

"Look, are you more afraid of Derek or Lydia?" Scott raised an eyebrow.

That was the golden question. Derek had a gun, but Lydia struck icy fear into all of their hearts. Everyone knew it, and if Stiles didn't go along, Scott would know that something serious was going on. He would be nosy, and annoying, and involve everyone. So with a sigh, he nodded and hurried back to his apartment. Derek would just have to suck it up if he returned to an empty apartment. 

Stiles snatched his wallet and keys, and shut off his computer. He considered changing, but Lydia wouldn't care what he was wearing, just how much of her time he'd wasted already. Scott didn't come in as Stiles grabbed his things, but leaned against the door frame, staring at his watch. What a worrier. It wasn't like Lydia could kill the groom. 

"Okay, I'm ready. You can untwist your panties," Stiles said, rushing past him. 

"I'm so throwing you under the bus," Scott muttered as he followed. 

Stiles bit back a shudder at that. Lydia wasn't what anyone would describe as merciful. They both sped up slightly on the stairs and hurried to Scott's car. Stiles thought maybe his baby needed a break after the weekend she'd had. Besides, from the look on Scott's face as he spotted the jeep, Stiles guessed his friend wouldn't have trusted it to get him to the shop quickly. 

He must have broken every speed limit, but they got there in record time. When they walked into the coffee shop, there was only one occupied table. In the back Allison and Danny say beside each other, looking slightly in pain. Lydia and Jackson stood, arguing. All eyes flew to the pair as Scott and Stiles hesitated by the door. 

"And where the hell have you two been? I have class in an hour," Lydia said, suddenly turning her attention to them. Jackson sighed and dropped down onto a chair, letting his head fall back. Stiles bit back his jealousy. 

"Stiles," Scott called, throwing up his hands and taking a seat beside his fiance. Lydia didn't take her glare from Stiles as she waited for an explanation. 

"I was working with Derek," he tried with a hopeful grin. 

"Well Derek is lucky I don't know where he lives or we would have problems. He needs to know who has priority." Lydia harrumphed and took a reluctant seat. Stiles fought a grin as he followed suit. 

"So what's up with you guys?" Stiles asked, reaching around Scott and taking a sip of Allison's coffee. He hadn't realized that he'd had nothing that morning after being woken at such an ungodly hour. Allison snatched it back before he could get comfortable. 

"Hey, no stealing from the bride to be," she scolded. 

"Well Ethan and I are doing re-" 

Lydia dropped her binder on the table loudly. "We don't have time for catching up Danny. We have work to do." Danny rolled his eyes but turned back to Lydia. "Now I sent out the new invites and am already getting rsvps but I'm sure a few people aren't going to be able to make it because of the short notice. Allison, you and Scott are going to have to keep on top of that so I can make sure the seating plan isn't wrecked." Lydia ordered, sifting through her pages. 

"Jackson and Danny are going to get the place set up, and they're working on finding the entertainment. I want a DJ, but if the only option is a live band then there's hardly anything I can do about that." From the look Jackson had on his face, Stiles could guess Lydia had been telling him earlier how much she wanted a DJ. 

"What does your schedule look like Stiles?" Lydia asked without looking up at him. Stiles didn't really know on account of everything being in the air at the moment. "And do you need a plus one, because Scott mentioned something earlier about it." Then she did look up, moving a strand of hair from her face and trying to read him. Hopefully she was reading how much he did not need a plus one. He probably wouldn't even need his own seat. 

He glared at Scott who wouldn't meet his gaze. "I definitely will not be needing a plus one. And I have to talk to Derek. I'm not really sure how this week or next week is going to go." Lydia narrowed her eyes. Stiles foot shook nervously. 

"Call him and ask." She demanded. Jackson turned a laugh into a cough. 

"...He's busy, I can't just call him," Stiles argued. Yeah, Derek had to think. About things. 

"Sure you can, just get your phone out and dial his number," she said with a grin that showed how little choice he had. 

With a sigh, Stiles tugged his phone out of his pocket and unlocked the screen just as Derek's face popped onto it. He was calling. God it was just his luck. He would get to be yelled at by Lydia and Derek at the same time. Either it was his unlucky day, or Lydia was psychic. "Hey."

"Stiles, where the hell are you?" Derek demanded. "I don't know if you remember, but we have something pretty important to discuss."

"No Derek, my whole dilemma just slipped my mind," Stiles scoffed as he stood. He knew their eyes were on him but he didn't look back at them. "I just had to step out, there was a minor emergency."

"It's our dilemma. And you should be less snappy seeing as I just figured out a way to take care of us both," he bragged. Stiles perked up at the news and took a few more steps from the table. 

"Really? That's awesome. What is it?" He was nearly jumping up and down at the excitement. There was a chance he wasn't going to jail. Yay!

"I'll tell you when I get there. Where are you, I'm picking you up." Stiles heard the jingle of keys and a door slam. Well that was no good. The last thing he needed was Derek around his friends. 

"Why don't I meet you back at my place..." he suggested, glancing back at the table. They were all staring at him. They didn't even have the decency to look ashamed at being caught. Vultures. 

"No, if this is going to work we need to get started now. Just tell me the address."

"The coffee shop on fifth and maine," Stiles muttered in resignation. 

"Great, I could use a cup. I'll be there in five."

Then he hung up. 

Stiles turned hesitantly back to his friends who were all staring at him with odd smiles. "So Derek's going to come pick you up?" Lydia asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah, but he's in a hurry so he probably won't even get out of the car," Stiles hoped aloud, taking his seat once more. 

"You didn't ask about your schedule." She pointed out. Stiles cursed himself silently. He definitely wasn't calling Derek back. 

"Derek is really serious about work, so just take my weekends," Stiles said resolutely. Derek had a solution so he would definitely be free by the weekend. But Stiles had no idea where he would be next week. 

"Fine," Lydia said with pursed lips. "So definitely no plus one?" she confirmed, pen hovering over a spot in her book.

Stiles glanced down at his fidgeting hands, hesitated. Derek had found a way to get them both off the hook. But that didn't mean he and Derek were all figured out. Derek wanted to wait until they'd taken care of everything to talk about them. And that was if he even saw Stiles the same way after the Black Fox bomb. 

Which sucked majorly because Stiles was an impatient son of a bitch. It sucked waiting until Derek arrived to figure out what the plan was. How was he supposed to wait until the end of the week, or possibly longer, to figure out what his relationship status was? Or if Derek even felt the same way anymore. Bastard.

Technically Stiles had agreed to wait, but he didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to making good decisions. And if Derek never wanted to see him again, he didn't want to show up to the wedding only to have to explain to everyone what had happened to his date. That would be mortifying, and Jackson would make him relive it for years to come. 

And yet, something had Stiles thinking 'fuck it.'

"You know what, yeah, put me down for a plus one," Stiles told her. All he had to do was bide his time, wait until the weekend, then get his man. He was Stiles fucking Stilinski and he didn't take no for an answer. Unless it was coming in the form of rejection from a really hot agent. But he didn't linger on that. 

With a smirk, Lydia scribbled something into her binder. "Great. Now what about that schedule, how much do you value your sleep?"

\-----

Derek sighed and crossed his arms. Stiles needed a dictionary, because what he was seeing was hardly a minor emergency. What he saw, was a group of friends clowning around in a coffee shop at 8:30 in the morning. There was no bleeding, or screaming, or police officers. There was, however, an appropriately nervous looking Stiles, because he caught sight of Derek looming in the doorway first. 

He shot to his feet, cup in hand and hurried to the man's side. "I got you your coffee, lets go." 

"You don't know how I take it." Derek eyed the cup that Stiles was holding out to him. He was bouncing from foot to foot in a way that screamed 'lets go.' But Derek was gonna let him sweat it for making him drive around. 

"Black. That's how you took it when we met to sign those papers. Now can we go?" Stiles muttered, grabbing his arm and failing to pull him out the door. Derek didn't budge. He did take the coffee though. He was flattered Stiles had taken note of such a small detail. Not that that mattered. They had more important things to worry about. 

"But what's the rush? I'm sure it could wait a few minutes. I'd like to meet Stiles' new coworker," One of Stiles' friends, a strawberry blond, said. She was eyeing him the way he usually looked at criminals. And Stiles. It was discerning.

"Actually we are in a bit of a time crunch," Derek replied evenly.

"Please, it can't be that serious," She insisted. 

"Oh but it is," Stiles said nervously. "Catching bad guys and stuff. It's life or death."

"Alright, next time." She conceded. "Lydia by the way." Lydia extended a hand and Derek shook it. He wasn't so sure what the girl had been up to, but she seemed past it. 

"Thank god," Stiles muttered under his breath before leading the way outside. 

Derek followed after him, but before the door had completely shut, he vaguely heard Lydia speaking. 

"I like him. Let's hope Stiles doesn't fuck it up."


	9. Dream Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, hope you like this one! I know it's premature but I wanted to thank you all for the support you've given me despite my sketchy at best update times. I don't think I would have gotten this far without you all so here's a hug >^.^)>
> 
> Love you all!

Derek took a sip of his coffee. Stiles had gotten it right. Derek had never been a fan of those sugary drinks that they passed off as coffee in most coffee shops. If he couldn't pronounce it, then it was way too complicated. And the fact that he had remembered Derek's preference was making Derek question how much Stiles had faked.

But his thoughts didn't linger there, because he had more important things to think about. Like keeping that idiot out of federal prison. Maybe Derek should have been worried by how badly he wanted to keep Stiles out of trouble, but he was careful not to think about that either. Lately more and more of his thoughts were off limits and that couldn't be good.

"So where to?" Stiles called from Derek's car. He hadn't even realized he'd stopped walking. Derek rushed over, unlocking his car. He ignored the weird look he was getting.

"Back to my place. Yours is a wreck and we need to work." Derek slid in and pulled on his seat belt, then slipped his coffee into the cup holder. 

Stiles grinned and yanked at his own seat belt. "Oooh, field trip. But we have to stop at my place to get my computer." Derek tried to bite back a sigh as he pulled out of the parking lot. Sometimes he felt like a baby sitter. 

"You know this is really serious Stiles," Derek scolded. He was possibly looking at serious jail time. 

"Yeah, but you said you figured it out." Stiles began fidgeting with the radio dials. He didn't really understand what had caused Stiles to trust him so much, but it felt nice. He definitely felt more inclined not to fail him. Stiles landed on a song Derek didn't recognize and began singing along with disturbing accuracy.

_"You're so fine, I want you mine, you're so delicious. I think about you all the time, you're so addictive. Don't you know what I can do to make you feel alright? Don't pretend I think you know I'm damn precious. And hell yeah I'm the mother fuckin' princess. I-_ " 

Derek turned off the radio before Stiles could get to the chorus. "No." He was not going to relive that flight, no matter how hard Stiles pouted at him.

"You do realize that means we have to talk." Stiles raised an eyebrow at him like he wasn't capable of real conversation. Derek could talk all he wanted. 

"Okay, those friends of yours are interesting," Derek bit out, hoping that sounded like a natural conversation starter. He didn't really have to worry about that though because Stiles was looking away. 

"Oh yeah," he muttered, paying extra close attention to his seat belt. He was so cute when he blushed. "Lydia was just mad I was late today. She thinks you're taking up too much of my time." _Not nearly enough,_ Derek caught himself thinking.

"God forbid work get in the way of spending time with your friends." Derek said sarcastically, drinking from his cup. Stiles actually chuckled. See, he could be funny too. 

"Oh look who suddenly has jokes." Stiles teased. "We've just been so close for so long that they aren't used to me being busy."

"Well that won't be changing any time soon," Derek said, pulling up in front of Stiles' building. "Make it quick." 

Stiles flew from the car and Derek felt himself relax just a bit. Derek had been fine before he'd picked up Stiles, but the guy had a way of getting under Derek's skin. Making him wonder whether or not he should just go for it and ask him out. Distracting him from the logically more pressing issue of keeping him out of jail.

But Stiles was so sure and confident in Derek's abilities, he almost made it seem like federal prison was no big deal. Which wasn't logical because as far as Derek was concerned, he hadn't really done anything to deserve that faith. And he was all about the logic. Which was probably why Stiles was getting to him. There was nothing logical about him. 

He acted like a complete idiot even though he was obviously incredibly smart. He grew up with a cop, but his hobbies included breaking laws. He hadn't seemed at all worried about what Derek's plan was, just that he had one. And after lying to Derek for a week about probably everything, he was acting like the same old Stiles. Like he hadn't lied about anything important. 

Except when Derek had confessed his feelings, Stiles hadn't said a word. Yeah, he'd cuddled up to Derek and insisted the man stay for another movie and the night, but he hadn't actually said anything. Which had Derek staring at the steering wheel of his car in confusion until Stiles came back and made it worse.

When he slipped into Derek's car, he had his computer bag in one hand. But what held Derek's attention was the fact that he was wearing a certain leather jacket and acting like it was nothing. It wasn't. People didn't just go around wearing each other's clothing if there was nothing there. So what the hell. 

"I said I wasn't giving it back," Stiles said without looking up from the sleeve he was carefully rolling up.

"You know, if you go around wearing people's jackets, it says things," Derek said stiffly, pulling out of the parking lot. 

"Well I'm sure we can wait until the end of the week to discuss 'what it says'," Stiles responded, turning to look out the window. He tried to sound normal, but Derek had spent enough time around him to tell when he was pouting. His grip tightened on the wheel. He was really going to bring it up now? Of all times?

"Are you sure you want to do this now? You don't think there's anything else just a little bit more important we could be talking about?" Okay, so maybe he sounded a little more frustrated than was warranted, but he couldn't seriously be the only one in the car who thought there were more pressing matters. 

"You know what? There are way more important things to talk about, but my priorities are screwed to hell, so yeah I wanna talk about this now." Stiles quickly turned in his seat, getting caught in the seat belt momentarily, and crossed his arms. 

Derek kept his gaze fixed on the road. Mostly so he wouldn't laugh at what an idiot Stiles was. It wasn't even fair that everything Stiles did was attractive. Even when he was losing a battle against a strip of fabric. Derek wasn't even sure why they were having the conversation again when it was Stiles' feelings that were up in the air. Stiles knew how he felt. Derek had been the one who'd been forced to guess. 

"What do you want me to say? I already said my bit. If you want to talk it's your turn." he finally bit out. Stiles visibly startled at that, dropping his arms. Derek could see the confusion from the corner of is eye. 

"But after this whole Black Fox thing....I mean I get that you're helping me, bu-" Derek couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh, cutting Stiles off. Was that what he'd thought? Derek wished he could turn it off just like that. 

"If you think your little confession changed anything, you're a bigger idiot than I thought," he muttered, turning a little sharper than was probably necessary.

Stiles scoffed. "Well you aren't perfect either." 

"Then why are you still wearing my jacket?" Derek asked roughly, losing his temper. He pulled up at a red light and glanced over at Stiles who was staring at him blankly. Great, Derek broke him. He sighed and tried to think of the least demeaning way to apologize. The last thing he wanted was to yell at Stiles. He was annoying, but still. 

"I thought it was obvious," Stiles mumbled sheepishly, interrupting Derek's thoughts. The light turned green and Derek had to look away as Stiles continued. "I mean I really want to fuck you. But I also want to wake up next to you every morning, and wear your jacket, and glare at people who flirt with you. And I want to do ridiculously domestic things like have brunch. Which is weird because I don't even eat breakfast most of the time, so I'd probably hate brunch, but I'd like it if you were there." Stiles rambled nervously. 

Derek tried not to think too hard about what Stiles was saying. Even as he memorized every single word so he could run it through his mind over and over again later. He needed to be calm about the whole thing. Just because Stiles wanted something more didn't mean that the revelation had to eclipse everything else. 

Even though all Derek wanted to do was pull over, drag Stiles into the back seat, and take everything off of him, he needed to be rational. They had bigger things to worry about. Federal prison things. But one peek over at Stiles and Derek knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything. 

Not when Stiles was sitting there in his jacket talking about brunch. Derek forced his eyes on the road, but he did allow himself a small smile. They would be at his place in two minutes. In two minutes, he could take his eyes off of the asphalt and give Stiles his undivided attention. Then they could work. 

"Would you say something. Please?" Stiles asked, fiddling with the sleeves on Derek's jacket.

"I like brunch," Derek said as casually as he could manage. 

"Yeah?" Stiles perked up instantly, He smiled hopefully, making Derek's heart melt. When had it gotten so easy for him to do that?

"And you look pretty good in that jacket," Derek added. 

"I do," he agreed, twiddling his fingers in his lap. Derek knew he shouldn't have been doing it, but he couldn't stop peeking at Stiles. 

"But I don't think you'll get to glare at all that many people," Derek said. Stiles scoffed. Like there were that many people lusting after him. Yeah, right. 

"We'll see about that," Stiles muttered as Derek pulled into his space. 

It was odd, and completely irrational, but he felt nervous bringing Stiles to his apartment. He'd brought plenty of men to his apartment before. But they weren't meant to stick around. And Stiles clearly already liked him, he knew there was nothing to worry about, but he couldn't get rid of the twist in his gut. 

What if he took one look at that neat, organized apartment and decided he'd bitten off more than he could chew? Derek had seen Stiles' apartment and compared to that he seemed completely anal. And while he knew he probably needed therapy, he didn't need Stiles jumping onto that train as well. 

"Well this is it." Derek took a deep breath and glanced at Stiles who looked way too excited. 

Well at least that helped ease a little of his anxiety. It was just Stiles. He turned off the car and got out, waiting for Stiles to follow. The boy rushed to Derek's side, almost skipped, and immediately grabbed the man's hand as they started walking. He didn't feel like he was dating someone way too young for him or anything. Derek looked down at their intertwined fingers and raised an eyebrow. 

"Don't pretend like you don't love it," Stiles sassed him. Derek did love it, but he wasn't about to admit that, so he just rolled his eyes and lead Stiles to the elevator. The one his apartment complex actually had. Cough cough. 

It was a silent ride up, which was pretty new for Stiles. Derek's apartment was on the fifth floor at the end of the hall. Stiles took in the beige hallway like he'd never seen one before. As Derek searched his pockets for his keys, Stiles kept hold of his hand. He bounced on the balls of his feet eagerly. 

"Hurry uuuuup," he whined as Derek tried to pick out the key to his door with only one hand. God, he actually wanted to date that. 

Before Derek could get the right key, the door flew open. 

"Hey Laura," Stiles greeted her. He dropped Derek's hand and shoved his laptop at the man before rushing forward to hug his sister. 

What the hell? Derek watched in shock as his sister lead Stiles into his apartment. He'd been so careful. He'd literally hid everything. And yet somehow she'd found him. She figured out how to meet Stiles behind his back. He couldn't imagine how. Stiles wasn't even his real name. God, she was good. Derek stepped inside just as they took a seat on his couch. 

"I didn't even need your advice," Stiles was explaining excitedly.

"I'm sorry, whose advice?" Derek might have sounded a little annoyed, but could you blame him? His sister and Stiles in the same room was not a good combination. 

"Oh it was nothing," Stiles said looking more than a little ashamed. He rubbed the back of his neck as Laura laughed. 

"I just wanted to help him, help you get your head out of your ass." Laura smiled up at Derek like she hadn't done anything at all wrong. Why did he even try to have privacy with her around?

"What exactly was this advice?" He asked one in particular as he placed Stiles' computer on the coffee table and sat down across from them. He tried not to sigh at the expression on Stiles' face. 

"Well...." Stiles began. 

\-----  
*Saturday*  
\-----

Stiles laughed nervously. "Do I really need a notepad, because if we're being honest, I don't think I own one."

Laura smiled and patted his hand. "It was a joke. You only need a few things to get my brother."

"That sounds wrong," Stiles muttered leaning back onto the couch and pulling up one of his legs.

"Whatever, you're going to have to get used to our weirdly close relationship because it won't be changing any time soon." Laura smiled like it wasn't a threat and Stiles genuinely laughed at that. 

"I'm sure I'll manage. My best friend and I reached unhealthily close years ago," Stiles said, wishing he was joking. He and Scott hadn't had boundaries since middle school. "So what is this amazing advice of yours?"

"It's just three simple things. First, don't let Derek intimidate you. He tries to be all rough and tough but it's just a cover," she explained. Laura leaned forward like it was some big secret. Okay, so maybe Derek was a little intimidating sometimes. But Stiles wasn't usually one to back down. "Second, get a date. He doesn't seem like it, but he's the jealous type. That'll get him thinking straight." Stiles laughed at the idea.

"Are you kidding me? Derek 100% looks like the jealous type. But I never considered that, it seems manipulative." Stiles was already lying to Derek about Black Fox. "Besides, I don't wanna get some poor guy shot," he added. Derek was wound pretty tight, and even though he had patience for Stiles, he wasn't so sure what Derek's tolerance was for others.

"Stiles, Derek can be a bone head. If you don't force him, it could take forever for him to realize what he wants. Besides, it would probably only be like one gunshot wound. They would survive," Laura waved a hand and rolled her eyes. Stiles was finding it easier and easier to see the resemblance between the two. 

"So what's number three?" He asked hesitantly. He really hoped it didn't involve burying a body. He didn't have the upper body strength for grave digging. 

"Be yourself. He already likes you, so do you," Laura said. She smiled widely, tugging at her pony tail absentmindedly. 

"That sounds surprisingly doable," Stiles commented. He'd honestly expected an extensive list of instructions that required jumping through a number of hoops and maybe giving up junk food. He really liked Derek and all, but he was already in a committed relationship with pizza.

"Yeah the challenge with him is getting him to like you in the first place." Laura stood and headed for his kitchen. "So what have you got to eat? I'm starving." Stiles raised an eyebrow at her back but followed. 

"I'm pretty sure all I have is coffee and Cheetos." Laura nodded and began searching through his cabinets until she found the offending bag. 

"I think this is all going to work out just fine," Laura said as she popped open the bag and hopped onto the counter. Stiles jumped up beside her and dipped into the bag. 

"I think you might be right," he agreed around a mouthful of Cheetos.

\-----

"Do I even want to know how you found him?" Derek asked, standing up. 

"You might, but it would be a long boring story. It was ridiculously difficult. Did you know Stiles isn't his real name, it-"

"That's enough. Derek knows, just please don't say it," Stiles begged, cutting her off. He really didn't need to hear that out loud.

"I haven't quite gotten down the pronunciation though," Derek teased. "What was it Laura?"

"I'll get rid of her," Stiles offered before she could answer. Derek raised an eyebrow in surprise. But Stiles could do it. He had a ace up his sleeve that would clear Laura out in a a second. 

"Be my guest."

"Hey don't I get a say in this?" She asked, crossing her arms. Judging by how nearly she'd come to blurting out Stiles' name, no. 

Stiles leaned towards Laura and lowered his voice so Derek wouldn't hear. "If you go, I'll promise to tell you about all of the embarrassing stuff Derek does for however long we're dating." Stiles whispered. Derek would kill him if he ever found out about it, but Stiles could live with that. He was pretty sure Derek couldn't do anything too bad to him since he liked Stiles. 

"Well something's come up Derek. I'll just let myself out." Laura finally said, silently accepting Stiles' offer. She reached forward and hugged Stiles with a huge grin then stood and grabbed her bag. After pecking her brother on the cheek, she was gone. 

"How did you? What did you? How?" Derek asked nearly incoherent as he stared at the door. Stiles enjoyed the look of confusion on his face way too much. It felt nice to be on top. 

"That's my little secret," Stiles said smugly. He stretched out on the couch and placed his hands behind his head. "This is so much more comfortable than mine." he added. It was probably more comfortable than his bed too, but that was because Stiles was too lazy to get rid of the lumps of clothes that slept beside him. 

He watched as Derek narrowed his eyes. "Fine, but I'll get it out of you eventually." Stiles was absolutely positive he would. His job was literally centered around gathering information. 

He watched as Derek kicked off his boots and placed them by the door. He removed his tan jacket and tossed it over the side of the couch, rolling his shoulders. Stiles then noticed the gun that had been hidden mostly by his jacket. He stared at it and wondered when it had stopped bothering him that Derek carried it around. Probably when he'd left it in the car to make Stiles more comfortable. 

"Don't worry, I'm putting it in my safe now," Derek reassured him when he noticed Stiles had sat up to see over the couch. 

"You can, but it doesn't bother me that you have it." Stiles said, resting his chin on the back of the couch so he could stare at the muscles in Derek's arms as he crossed them. 

"What's changed?" Stiles shrugged half heartedly. 

"I don't know, it's just okay now." Derek nodded, but removed the harness anyways. He disappeared into what Stiles assumed was his bedroom, then reappeared fire arm free. "So what's this brilliant plan of yours?"

"Well I was thinking that all the CIA wants is to gain intelligence on those who are a threat to the nation and stop them before they do anything awful. We originally thought you were a foreign threat, which is why we were on the Black Fox. But all you were really doing was stealing millions of dollars. Which obviously didn't go towards your apartment..." Derek added unnecessarily. He sent Stiles an accusing look. 

"I didn't keep the money," Stiles defended with a snort. It was kind of insulting that Derek thought he had. What was doing with it? Constantly buying new clothes so he wouldn't have to wash the dirty ones? He had to admit the thought had crossed his mind. 

"Then what happened to it?"

"I was giving it to people who needed it way more than those greedy corporations." Derek's expression softened and he lowered his arms. 

"You must have had a really crappy guidance counselor. There are lots of legal careers that do good," he said in a voice that was way softer than Stiles had ever heard come from him. But he was a little shit so he ignored it. 

"Yeah well, I wasn't exactly looking to be a cop," he muttered bitingly. It wasn't as though he'd been all that interested in waiting for a career to do good, all he had to do was turn on his computer. Derek hesitantly moved around the couch and took a seat beside Stiles. 

"Look, I know this is probably a given, but you're going to have to stop being Black Fox. Especially if this, us, is going to work." Stiles just rolled his eyes at Derek's awkward request. Or demand. He couldn't really tell when Derek was looking at him like he might freak out. 

"I know. I kind of figured dating a guy in law enforcement might get in in the way of my extracurriculars." Derek looked almost comically relieved by the admission. And Stiles was pleased to see he wasn't at all put off by the notion of dating. "Besides, I'm sure you can be a much better guidance counselor than my last one," he said, grabbing Derek's hand with one of his and lacing their fingers together. 

Derek stared at their intertwined fingers and grinned slowly. "That actually brings me to part two of the plan. The Black Fox was a small fry in terms of what we've dealt with before. The only reason we wanted you so bad was because you just kept coming back. Kind of like a pesky mosquito," Derek teased. Stiles swatted at him, he was not as annoying as a bug, but Derek continued like nothing had happened. 

"So all I really have to do is turn you in. You'll be arrested, then-" Stiles cut him off. Obviously he'd put too much faith in Derek's ability to get him out of this. 

"Derek, I'm not really seeing what this has to do with my future employment unless you count inmate as a career choice. That doesn't make you a very good guidance counselor either. In fact, that could make you the w-" 

"Stiles, shut up." Derek was lacking the usual bite, but it still worked. Stiles zipped his lips tightly and allowed Derek to continue with his stupid plan. "While you're being arrested, I'll be speaking with my boss. I'll convince him that if you've been able to stay hidden for so long, even after hacking into our databases, then clearly you should be working for the CIA instead of squandering your talents in a cell." Derek looked down at him so proudly that Stiles almost didn't want to point out the glaringly huge flaw. 

"And if you can't convince him?" Stiles asked.

"I will, don't worry." Derek squeezed his hand gently and Stiles really wanted to believe him, so he did. 

"Okay. Then what was the work you'd been so eager to get started on?" Derek perked up at the question and snatched Stiles' computer from the coffee table. 

"Well I'm just here for moral support, you're the one who's going to have to do the work," he said, powering up the computer and handing it to Stiles. 

He groaned loudly but took it. "What kind of work?"

"Well," Derek started, looking a bit more mischievous. "Just in case your skills aren't enough to get you cleared, we're going to sweeten the pot. You're going to get into the CIA's database, download the files of whatever criminals we want the most, and find them." Derek explained like it was the easiest thing in the world. Stiles couldn't hold in his scoff. 

"Oh is that all?" Stiles asked sarcastically, logging on. He was sure he could find some terrorists, but the most wanted, maybe not. 

"Well there is one other thing..." Stiles hands froze on the keys and he looked over at Derek, hoping he looked as skeptical as he felt. 

"We just need proof that you found these guys. So since we don't actually have to apprehend them, we have a little more time. Which means that we don't have to get to work right this instant."

Stiles stared at Derek in shock as he realized what the man meant. He literally breathed for his job, and now he wanted to take a break. So they could fool around on his couch like teenagers. He didn't even have to consider it. One look at Derek's unsure face and his computer was shut. He placed it on the coffee table carefully then turned toward Derek. 

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" He asked, just to be sure. The last thing he wanted was to fuck up the his first relationship since high school. Derek rolled his eyes and tugged Stiles closer. Stiles noticed that he did not pull him into his lap like Stiles had fantasized about an embarrassing amount of times. 

"It's incredible how you're the most impatient person I've ever met, and you still haven't kissed me," Derek complained, still holding Stile's hand. He was all talk. Stiles could see past his bravado that he was nervous. And he was being careful not to push him. It was cute, and endearing, but totally unnecessary. 

"I just didn't want to scare you off, I'm a lot in case you haven't noticed," Stiles said more truthfully than he'd meant to. Derek laughed to his surprise.

"Stiles, if you haven't scared me off yet, I doubt there any chance of that happening in the future." That was all he really needed to hear. 

With a grin Stiles let go of his hand and straddled the man. Derek made a soft 'oomf' on impact, but that had probably been from surprise seeing as Stiles had never seen his eyes get so wide. Derek's hands immediately fell to his hips, and Stiles rested his own behind Derek's neck. "In that case, I guess you won't mind this." Derek laughed again. Stiles was on a roll. 

"No, I can't say that I do," he said with a grin. 

"Good, because that would make this next part a tiny bit awkward." 

Stiles leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Derek's lips, his hands finding their way onto Derek's neck. It wasn't anything he'd fantasized about, no tongue or teeth or heavy breathing. It was better. Derek's lips were soft and sweet. It was almost innocent. Stiles felt a wide grin find it's way onto his face and he pulled away just an inch or two. He'd just described Derek as soft, sweet, and innocent. 

"What?" Derek asked, a small grin making it's way onto his face. 

Stiles could feel Derek's breath puff out, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on his hips. He was looking up at Stiles like nothing else mattered in the world and it was like a switch was flipped in his head. No one had looked at him like that in a while. Maybe ever. And all he wanted was to live there in the moment for the rest of his life. 

"Nothing," he breathed. Derek nodded softly, pressing their foreheads together. 

Derek moved one of his hands up until it rested on Stiles' cheek. He ran his thumb over the smaller man's lips, and Stiles could only wonder what he had done to deserve that kind of affection. He'd dragged that man across the country, lied to him, used him, and yet, he was allowed to sit there and be treated like he was special. It blew his mind. 

"I never thought I would like your mouth so much," Derek muttered. Stiles laughed. He had to agree with that. Not necessarily out loud though. Why make it easy?

"I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Are you sure about that?" Derek asked with a a grin.

"I'm sure you'd rather kiss me then have this argument." Stiles smiled smugly as Derek's shoulders slumped. 

Stiles leaned forward once again, feeling a new need. He wanted to melt into that man. He kissed Derek hungrily, feeling that heat build as Derek pulled their bodies as close as they could get. Stiles' hand were in his hair, Derek's fingers were leaving behind a trail of heat wherever they passed. First his cheek, then his neck, then his sides, just under the hem of the jacket he was still wearing. 

Derek's stubble rubbed against his cheek softly, making him sigh. Stile's never thought he would find out what that felt like. He sucked at Derek's bottom lip drawing a soft moan from the man that went straight to his dick. Had him rolling his hips against Derek's without even thinking about it.

Derek froze. Stiles hesitantly pulled away. 

"Ooops?" he muttered. 

Derek seemed more confused than anything. Stiles could understand that considering they'd been in a relationship for all of ten minutes and Stiles was rutting against him like a horny teenager. He let his head fall onto Derek's shoulder in embarrassment as he realized he was already half hard after making out.

"I just don't want to start anything until we figure out where exactly we are," Derek said hesitantly. His fingers stayed just under Stiles' shirt, pressed against his skin. It was nice, but Stiles needed to focus on anything else. 

"You're right. You aren't getting in my pants until we've been dating for at least a week," Stiles said firmly into his shoulder. Derek's laughter was wjat had him looking up and glaring. 

"How do you know I'm not a little harder to win over?" Stiles scoffed.

"Please, I'm irresistible."

"Well I think it would be best for everyone if we got to work, Mr. Irresistable," Derek advised, tapping his hip in a gesture that clearly meant stand up. 

"Yeah yeah. Welcome back," he muttered. But he didn't move without pecking Derek once more on the lips. 

Just because he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW I made a few tiny edits to the last chapter. Nothing huge, a reread isn't hugely necessary for the plot. There were just a few things bothering me that I felt I had to tweak.


	10. Fallout

\---Thursday---

"Getting me more Monster would be appreciated," Stiles muttered, rubbing his eyes. 

"But then I would be facilitating your bad habit. No. You're going to look up from that screen and eat a real meal," Derek insisted. He placed the plate of eggs, sausage, and toast on the table beside a glass of orange juice. Stiles didn't look up from his spot on the couch. Derek narrowed his eyes. He wasn't exactly the poster child for breaks, but Stiles needed one and it wasn't optional. "I'm not asking Stiles."

"You never are," he muttered, closing his laptop and placing it on the couch beside him. "But if I get thrown in federal prison..." he trailed off as he dragged himself to the spot Derek had set up. Derek rolled his eyes and bit back a sigh. What a drama queen. There was no way he was letting Stiles go to prison. 

"You're grouchier than me when you don't drink that crap," Derek commented, retreating into the kitchen to get his own plate. He'd left it a bit of a mess but he was too tired to clean up. He wasn't really an all-nighter kind of guy and it wasn't helping that he was virtually useless besides getting Stiles energy drinks that were basically non-lethal acid. 

"Don't say that!" Stiles stage whispered. "What if they hear?" Derek stared him down until Stiles took a bite, then responded. 

"Then maybe we'll get lucky and they'll stay out of the house," Derek hoped. He was finally with Stiles. The last thing he wanted was for his boyfriend, yes he liked saying that even in his head, to go into a sugar coma or something. 

"One day in and you're already trying to change me, tsk tsk," Stiles said around a mouthful of food. As long as he's eating, Derek told himself, taking a bite of his own eggs. 

"Only for the better dear." Derek played along. Worth it to see Stiles almost choke on his eggs in surprise. 

"You know," Stiles began after swallowing and downing half of his glass of juice, "I'm pretty sure that's how Bonnie and Clyde happened. I'm very impressionable you know." Derek laughed at that. Impressionable his ass. He didn't do a damn thing unless he wanted to. 

"Sure you are. Now shut up and eat."

"Yes dear."

Derek couldn't tell whether or not he was joking.

\-----

"How are you not embarrassed by your place of work?" Stiles asked, wide grin focused on his computer. Derek didn't move from his spot on the couch, mostly because he was lying down trying to catch a minute of sleep and also because Stiles was sitting on his thighs. Not that he weighed more than 90 pounds. 

"What did they do?" Probably something completely inconsequential. Stiles probably would have explained whether or not he asked, but that way it felt more like a conversation.

"More like what didn't they do. I found three of your top ten most wanted, one of which, was the guy who bombed that bridge last year," Stiles bragged. Derek cracked an eye open. They hadn't had a single lead in that case. Stiles was grinning like a fool, tapping his toes on air. 

"Not bad."

"Not bad? That's all I get?" Stiles pouted, turning towards him. Derek sighed, letting his second eye slip open. There was no way he would get any sleep with his boyfriend looking at him like that. His boyfriend. Derek suppressed the feelings that threatened to consume him. It was far too soon to be feeling so strongly about that dweeb. 

"You should try acting like someone your own age," Derek commented, reaching out and flicking the boy's lip.

"But I thought you liked me the way I am," Stiles moved his computer to the coffee table and crossed his arms. Derek shrugged, sitting up. 

"I mean, you're okay," he bluffed. And for all of his years working in an agency that required a great deal of lying, Derek found that those learned skills did him no good where Stiles was concerned. 

"Just okay?" Derek didn't think he could push that lip out any further. He rolled his eyes at the childish antics and gave up. 

"Fine, so you're kinda perfect. Happy?" Stiles grinned like one of the maniacs Derek hunted at work and allowed the man to tackle him. He fell onto his back, Stiles on top of him and realized that he probably had a grin to match and didn't fucking care. He was just so happy. He almost wondered what was going to happen to fuck it all up. It was his life after all. 

\---Friday---

When Derek came to, he immediately felt the difference. His head was at an awkward, uncomfortable angle, the pillow he'd had the night before, gone. It was stiflingly hot where he lay. Almost unbearable. And the comforter and sheets that rubbed against his skin were scratchy and rough. Not at all like the cool sheets of silk that were perfectly folded on his own bed. His big toe poking out of the left most corner of the sheets, felt the only cool air to be had. Yet another clue that he was not home. Derek Hale was a sheet tucker. Not a corner out of place. 

But he knew where that steady flow of heat was emanating from. He could feel Stiles beside him, and on top of him. A testament to how deeply Stiles hogged the bed, Derek's arm was pressed to the wall which the bed was pressed up against. Stiles dominated the rest of the bed in a spread eagle position that left one arm on top of Derek's chest and one leg tucked between the larger man's. 

It took Derek a moment to orient himself. After slowly rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and swallowing the sour taste in his mouth that he knew was worsened by the fact that he hadn't brushed his teeth the night before, he lifted his head and scoped the terrain. It wasn't like his well lit bedroom. The entire room was shrouded in shadows though he knew it was well into the morning. Stiles was most likely accustomed to sleeping in, unlike others. 

Looking down at his sleeping, half naked boyfriend, Derek almost wanted to stay and indulge his creepier side for a moment. But he could feel his stomach beginning to gnaw at itself, so he gently pried himself from Stiles' octopus like grasp. Stiles shifted and moaned and drooled just a little, but he never woke from his comatose sleep. 

When Derek's bare feet touched jeans instead of hardwood floor, he was hardly surprised. He was shocked however, to find that the pillows had found their way in a pile on the floor beside the bed. Derek bit back a chuckle and redirected his attention. He could do a number of things for Stiles' room, but it would be wasted effort. So he ignored the clutter that nearly covered the floor and hurriedly tugged on his jeans. 

The shirt he picked up off of the floor was uncomfortably tight and featured a cartoon character he did not recognize, but he didn't care too much. He had his priorities in other places. His stomach was beginning to gnaw at itself and Stiles would like feel the same when he woke, so Derek was much more concerned with food. He bypassed the kitchen completely as he tugged on his boots and grabbed his keys from the table. There was nothing edible in the apartment, he knew, so he slipped out the front door with the intent to get them both something delicious. 

\-----

Scott woke to the sun hitting him directly in his face. He shifted slightly, turned his head to the side. Allison lay to his left, the sun already resting on her still slack face. He hated to admit it but he was a bit of a cover hog, so she lay uncovered to her knees. The over sized shirt of his that she slept in fell almost to there. Her hair was everywhere, even a bit in her mouth. 

And all he could do was stare. In a little over a week, that woman would be his wife. Scott leaned over and brushed the hair from his fiance's face, and pressed a light kiss to her lips, waking her. Watching that lazy smile form on her lips would be the best part of his day, and it had only just begun. "Good morning," he murmured. 

"Hi," Allison leaned forward kissing him back, then fell back onto her pillow. 

"Guess what," Scott said excitedly, leaning over her. 

"What?" she asked, playing along.

"In 9 days, you'll be Allison McCall." Allison laughed and crossed her arms.

"We haven't agreed on that yet." Scott simply tilted his head and smiled. 

"I still have a few days to convince you," he teased.

Allison and Scott dissolved into laughter and kisses as they rolled together in bed. 

\-----

Lydia poured what felt like her hundredth cup of coffee and returned to her kitchen table to look at the dozens of papers that sat before her. She couldn't believe the mess she was in. Honestly, sometimes she felt like her friends were complication magnets. Nothing was ever simple with them. But she had never been a fan of anything easy, so there was a chance she was the magnet. 

Shaking the thought away, she looked down at her next task. She'd been working like crazy all week to make sure that the wedding would be ready by next week, and now she had reached possibly one of the most important tasks: the seating chart. About half of the guests hadn't rsvp'd, which she supposed was good because it was seriously cutting the costs of the wedding. But she hoped Allison and Scott wouldn't be too disappointed. 

But it was slightly more difficult to seat the fewer guests. Allison's parents got along well enough with Scott's, but her grandparents were instigators. Especially her grandmother. They did not approve of the match. And Allison's work friends were a little crazy so Lydia was seating them all separately at different tables. Then there were Scott's friend's from college, who weren't the best drunks so she placed far in the back where they wouldn't cause too much of a scene. But there were still issues she hadn't worked out. And Jackson had yet to find a Dj, but she was striving not to think about how badly he was failing her. 

With a sigh, she stood and turned from the table. Maybe a shower would help clear her mind. 

\-----

Derek stepped out of Dunkin Donuts around 11, a brown bag in one hand, two piping hot coffees in the other. Maybe as he juggled his goods and pulled out his keys, he whistled a little tune, but there was really no one to prove that. Besides, whistling was a totally normal thing to do, he thought as he climbed into his car and put down their breakfast in the passenger seat. 

As he pulled out of the Dunkin Donuts parking lot, Derek found himself speeding just a little bit. He knew Stiles was the reason for his improved mood, and all he really wanted was to hurry back to his boyfriend so they could lay in bed and cuddle. And Derek had never been a cuddler but something about Stiles made him want all of that stupid corny stuff he'd always laughed at. 

It was just so bizarre, because Stiles was like the sun, blocking everything else out. Derek had known him for just a few days, and Stiles had been able to steer him away from his blind obsession with catching his family's killer. And Derek hadn't even realized. He'd seamlessly gone from constantly thinking about that fateful day, to constantly thinking about Stiles. 

Yes, he still had every intention of getting his hands on that case file, but it hadn't even been a question when he'd had to choose between that and helping Stiles get out of his mess. Derek had easily made the choice. He could find another way to figure out what really happened to his parents, or maybe he could still bargain for the case, but he knew that he couldn't replace that twerp. 

Stiles had effectively burrowed into Derek's heart and the man couldn't bring himself to care. The only explanation he could think of was love. He had to love Stiles. But that was crazy. It was way to soon for something like that. And yet, Derek could feel how insignificant his arguments were. Laura would be so proud of his growth. As Derek made a left hand turn, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts of his boyfriend, that he didn't notice the SUV that had run it's red light. Derek turned his head just in time to see the black grill before everything went black. 

\-----

Stiles woke at near noon to a cold bed, a quiet room, and a frown. He knew that if he'd gone to college, his degree would be in freaking out. He couldn't deny that. But he was trying very hard not to freak out about the fact that there seemed to be no Derek in his apartment. Their last sleepover hadn't gone the best, but Stiles had faith that this one had been better. There was no reason to panic. 

He calmly got out of bed and casually checked his phone immediately. His whole body sagged in relief at the two text messages from Derek The first: Hey, do you like donuts or breakfast sandwiches? Then a: You're probably still asleep, I'll get both.

With a grin, Stiles shot him a thank you. The text had come about half an hour ago so he knew Derek would be back soon. With a ridiculously happy expression, Stiles got dressed, well he put on pants, and he brushed his teeth. Then he turned on the television and didn't watch it as he waited for Derek to return. 

It was a half hour before he finally broke and called the man. Derek's phone went straight to voicemail. A grumpy on, he might add. Trying not to panic, he called twice more but no change. This sick feeling began to build in Stiles' gut and he couldn't shake it no matter how he tried. He just knew something was wrong. It had been his last resort, but finally Stiles called Laura. It rang for what felt like forever before she finally picked up.

"Hello?" Laura answered, but she didn't sound like herself. She sounded like she'd been crying. 

Stile's stomach dropped.


	11. Beautiful Drug

Beep...Beep...Beep

Maybe Stiles was still asleep. That could be what was going on. Every once in a while, Stiles was known to have scarily vivid dreams, and nightmares, and it was likely that he was still tucked away in his bed, safely asleep. He did not receive a phone call from Laura, nearly incapable of making out any of her words through the sobs. He did not rush to the nearest hospital, even though it had been years since he'd last visited one. And he most certainly did not walk through the door of room 3306 to find Derek lying lifelessly on a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of him and a monitor beside his bed. 

Stiles stood in the doorway unable to move or even breathe. He could clearly see Laura hunched over his bed, crying, but Stiles couldn't offer her any comfort. This couldn't be happening. He'd seen this image enough times to know where it ended and he couldn't do it. He couldn't lose another person. He wasn't strong enough. And he definitely wasn't strong enough to be of any help to her. He thought he was feeling pain, he couldn't imagine what she was feeling. That was her brother on that bed. The last of their tiny family. 

But Stiles was overreacting. Derek was probably going to be fine. Not everyone who went into a hospital came out in a body bag. And Laura was just an overprotective sister. She was worried, rightly so, about her brother. Everything was going to be perfectly fine. He just needed to take a deep breath and ask Laura what happened. 

Beep...Beep...Beep...

"Stiles, you came," Laura choked out. Stiles was half way across the room when she noticed him. Her face was red and tear stained. Oh no. She rushed to his side, throwing her arms around him. That didn't bode well. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, though he hadn't a clue what he could possibly say to make her feel better. 

"What happened?" He asked hesitantly. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Laura wiped her nose and eyes with her sleeves, pulling away. "They say an SUV T-boned him. He hit his head," she sniffled, looking back at her brother. "They're doing all that they can, but the doctor told me he had a lot of bleeding in his brain, and they don't know if he'll ever wake up," Laura trailed off softly. He could see the tears building in her eyes once more. 

"Of course he will, he's a fighter," Stiles said, pulling her back into a hug. But as she sobbed into his shoulder, he knew that wasn't true. 

Hospitals weren't for the living. Everyone he'd ever loved who wen't in, didn't come out. Why would Derek be any different? Because Stiles felt like he was supposed to be part of the boy's life for a while to come? He'd felt the same way about his parents and they were six feet under. Stiles blinked roughly and looked away from the man who'd always been nothing but strong. He couldn't look at him in such a weak state, and he definitely would not cry over it. At least not in front of Laura. He wanted to at least be strong for her. 

He would have time later, when he was alone, to allow the realization to hit him. 

Derek was a goner.

***************  
Two Days later  
**************

Lydia was absolutely furious. She was no stranger to grief, that much was true. She'd lost her fair share of loved ones, all far too young. She understood that type of pain, but she did not understand wallowing. It was a waste of time, it was a waste of life, and she would not let Stiles wast any more of that life drowning himself in self pity, even if everyone else disagreed with her. 

She stormed into his apartment, but almost immediately halted. She dared not take another step for fear she'd stepped into some sort of alternate universe. The apartment was spotless. The couch and coffee table sat free of stray jackets and empty energy drink cans. The kitchen counter were clear and the sink was empty. Even the floor was free of empty bags and lose shoes. What the hell?

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked. He was leaning against his bedroom door frame, arms crossed and positively glowering at her. Oh, she was not going to have any of that. 

Lydia mirrored him, raising an eyebrow. "Where have you been all weekend? You promised you would help me with the wedding." Stiles scrunched his brows together. 

"I was busy." Lydia advanced on him. 

"Busy doing what? I went by the hospital, you haven't been by." If possible, Stiles' face closed off even more. Lydia wondered for a moment if she'd made a mistake but it was too late for that train of thought. She had to charge through. 

"Maybe I was here. What does it matter? I've spent days in here at a time before, why are you suddenly so concerned. Maybe you should get a life, Lydia. Stop butting into mine." Stiles turned to retreat back into his room, but Lydia rushed forward, grabbing his arm. No one talked to her like that any more. 

"Excuse me? Stiles you watch yourself because I have no problem kicking your ass. I'm here because you made a commitment to me then went radio silent. I'm here because I care about you. You're part of my life and I want you to confront what's going on. It's not healthy to pretend that you're fine, it's okay to not be fine."

"Nothing is going on! So some guy I knew for like a week is in the hospital! So what?!" he shouted, turning back on her. Lydia didn't flinch. She sighed. Scott warned her he might react like that. 

"Look, I know you care about him a lot and that's okay. Just talk to us. I was was learning in class that everyone grieves differently but I can-"

Stiles cut her off with a wave, anger gone. "I'm not one of your patients Lydia, and I'm not grieving. You can see yourself out." Stiles turned on a dime and slammed his bedroom door shut in her face. 

Lydia remained for a moment, unsure of what to do, but eventually she left. She couldn't help him until he wanted to help himself. Unfortunately, Derek had really gotten under his skin and Stiles was hurting. She just wished there was something she could do. Lydia was not the kind of girl to sit around and wait for something to happen. 

****************  
Tuesday  
****************

Stiles was sitting on his couch, staring at a piece of chipped paint on the wall when he heard it. The knock was soft, but then it came back again, stronger. Stiles let his head fall back in frustration. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Couldn't they see he was fine? He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to yell some obscenity, when a familiar voice called out. 

"Stiles?"

He was torn for a moment. His guilty conscience told him to get up and open the door, but he couldn't force his limbs to move. "Stiles I know you're home, I saw your car out front," Laura persisted. 

He stayed silent. Maybe she would give up and go away. 

"Stiles, you won't answer my calls so I guess you don't want to talk, but I do have something I want to say. I know this is all happening really fast, and it's scary that you might lose this guy you kind of care about, but you're strong. Derek wouldn't have picked you if you weren't," she sniffled before continuing. "The doctor was telling me that he can hear us when we talk to him. I've been by every day, reading to him, but I think he would really like to hear from you. I know it's a long shot, but it might help him wake up. We just have to stay positive."

Stiles tried not to listen to her. That doctor was giving her false hope and it was cruel. But what if....

"Okay, I guess I'll see you around then."

Stiles listened as she made a quick retreat.

***************  
Wednesday  
***************  
Stiles stared at his empty refrigerator, trying to weigh exactly how badly he wanted food. He hadn't eaten all day, but he was just so tired. Bone tired. The thought of pulling on a shirt, pants, shoes, it all seemed like too much. And what if he bumped into someone he knew. The last thing he wanted was to see anyone. Besides, cashiers always judge him. 

With a sigh, he let the door fall shut. Maybe he could order some take out, but he immediately dashed that idea. His phone was lying on the floor is his room, dead for the fifth day in a row and he couldn't bring himself to care. What was the point of keeping up with people? What was the point of any of it if it all just ended in death. Stiles couldn't deal with that. 

And he definitely couldn't deal with Laura's idea of hope. He'd been tempted to buy into it, had even glanced at his shoes, but it was too much. Already he felt like a part of him was slowly shriveling up, but he didn't know what he would do if he allowed himself to hope for Derek's recovery. The inevitable sad ending would destroy him and he couldn't do that to himself. He needed to be safe. Safe in his box where nothing could hurt him ever again.

**************  
Thursday  
**************

You don't care, you don't care, you don't care.

Stiles repeated it over and over again in his head like a mantra. He couldn't afford to think of a single other thought or he would break. He remembered how bad it had been last time, and the time before that. How the grief had been so bad he hadn't been able to eat or sleep, or function. He cried himself sick, thought he was going to die too. Wished it. 

He couldn't do that again. 

Derek was going to die, or he would be a vegetable for the rest of his life. But Stiles did not care. He'd only known the guy for like a week. Yeah, that was his boyfriend lying in that hospital bed, and yeah maybe he cared a little, but it was no big deal. It was just a guy. It wasn't like Stiles had been hoping to spend the rest of his life with Derek Hale or anything. 

Derek was rude. He didn't communicate well. He liked to intimidate people, and he was maybe a tad too serious. He was also way too into getting up at dawn. And he was such a neat freak. Plus, Stiles was pretty sure he ate healthier than Stiles ever would. So really they were the most incompatible people on the planet. Maybe this was fate stepping in, saying, no, this one is not for you. Stiles could understand that. 

Except, as he watched some useless infomercial flash across his television screen, he realized that no, he could not understand that. He didn't understand at all why Derek, who was young, and healthy, and safe, was the one who was in the hospital bed. Stiles didn't get it at all. But it wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that Stiles had once gone two days without eating anything but Monster, but Derek was in a hospital bed. Derek, who still had family sitting at his bed side, praying he'd wake up. Stiles had no one. If it was anyone's time to go, it was his. And just like that, the dam broke and Stiles was thinking about all of the things he had put behind brick walls and police tape for the last week. 

He thought about how he'd most definitely seen a future with Derek. A happy one where they moved in together, had crazy mind blowing sex, got married, traveled, had kids. He'd thought about it all because he was half convinced that Derek was his soul mate and that they'd be together forever. And Stiles cried, because no one had the right to take those cheesy fantasies from him. He cried because he wished it was him instead, then he wished it was neither of them.

Then the epiphany hit him like a truck. What the hell was he still doing in his apartment? After everything, if Derek even felt a hint of what Stiles did, he deserved that visit. Stiles would hate every second of it, and he would deny to his death that he was hurting, but he couldn't hide it from Derek. Maybe it was silly to think that there was hope, but what if he could wake up Derek just by talking to him, telling him how he felt, but he never went. What if he was the one who could make the difference. He couldn't forgive himself if that was true. And he couldn't live with himself if Derek died, he probably would, and there was always that nagging feeling that Stiles could have done something to help. 

He made a clumsy jump over the couch and sprinted into his room, grabbing his shoes and keys. His phone lay dead on the floor. He ignored it, it wouldn't do him much good like that. Then he ran out of his apartment like it was on fire, and headed straight for his car. As he wiped his face and started his car, he hoped it wasn't too late. He hadn't considered it until that very moment, but what if Derek was already dead? If Laura was pissed, he could understand why she wouldn't deliver the news. 

He pushed on the gas a little harder than usual as he tore his jeep out of the parking lot. It was a ten minute drive to the hospital, filled with prayers that Derek was still in that bed, sleeping. The adrenaline pumping through Stiles made him more twitchy than usual. Derek would have an aneurysm watching him, he thought darkly. 

Stiles ignored the massive parking garage and just slid right up front in the lane that was designated for pick ups. He hardly cared, he'd have no trouble making the ticket disappear. He parked farthest from the sidewalk and set off sprinting inside. Stiles crossed his arms and tapped his foot loudly as the woman behind the desk took her sweet time taking his photo. As soon as the sticky was on his shirt, he hurried towards the elevator, and hoping he could find Derek's room by memory. 

It took three or four tries down dead end hallways, but he finally found the familiar door. His adrenaline rush left him the moment he caught sight of that familiar grey door. He felt cold and scared and young all of a sudden as he remembered every other time he'd ever opened one of those doors. Stiles felt his heart speed up and his palms grow sweaty at the thought of turning the door knob. Could he really handle seeing another loved one spread out on one of those beds, the steady beep of the monitor suddenly turning into a flat line? It made him sick to his stomach. Everything inside of him screamed to go in the other direction. Bad things happened in there, his brain told him. But Stiles didn't have a choice. He couldn't live with himself if Derek died without him ever trying to help. He hadn't been able to do anything for his parents, but maybe saying his piece might actually save Derek. The hope was almost too much for him. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. 

That was what people did for the one's they loved. 

\-----------------------

Scott pulled knocked on his door and called out his name but he didn't hear a sound. He knew Stiles was home, Lydia had told him the boy hadn't left his apartment or answered his phone since the accident. She'd also told him he wouldn't open his door. But it was Scott, and Stiles couldn't ignore him forever. So he knocked again, and again, and again. 

"Stiles! I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well open up!" No response. Not a sound. With a sigh, Scott slid down to the floor and decided to wait him out. It was a good thing he loved his best friend, or he would have killed him.


	12. New Obsession

All Stiles saw was black as he hit a wall. 

Confused, he stumbled back a few steps. Before him stood a tall man blocking the door way. His dirty blonde hair was filled with product, his suit looked more expensive than Stiles' apartment, and his expression looked just about poisonous. The set of his jaw said that he was in no mood to be tested but Stiles was hardly about to turn back now. He had gotten himself to the hospital despite everyone of his instincts screaming at him to do otherwise, and he would get in that room. 

"Excuse me, just trying to get in and see Derek," Stiles said, trying to maneuver around the large man. But he wasn't having it. He stepped to block Stiles. He couldn't even see past the man's tall shoulders. 

"Oh no. I know who you are. You're the little fling Derek has been entertaining. Well it ends now. He doesn't need you distracting him from his work when he wakes up. Just run along, he didn't have any real feelings for you anyways," the man lectured snidely, placing a heavy hand on Stiles' shoulder and attempting to turn him around. But he fought the man. 

"And who are you? Not Derek? Didn't think so. Then you have no right telling me where I can and can't be." Stiles tried to shove past him but the man was much larger and blocked him easily. 

"I'm his uncle, and I already informed his nurse that only family would be allowed for visiting. No make yourself scarce or I'll call security." Peter, Stiles remembered the name from when he had stalked Derek online, crossed his arms and glared down at Stiles with the intensity of a thousand white hot suns. Or at least it felt that way. Maybe he was being a little dramatic. But only a tad. 

Narrowing his eyes, Stiles turned away and marched back down the hall to the elevator. He stabbed the button with more force than was probably necessary. He could still feel Peter's eyes on his back. Something had definitely crawled up that guy's ass and died, but Stiles wasn't going to let that deter him. If he couldn't see Derek right away, that was fine. Whatever. He would just wait in the parking lot until peter left, because the man surely couldn't stay forever, and then he would sneak into the room. He was sure there had to be at least one nurse who would have a little mercy on him. 

So with a new determination, he stepped into the elevator and stared down Peter as the metal doors slowly slid shut. Peter Hale had no idea what he had just gotten himself into. Stiles had several friends and a comatose boyfriend who could all contest to the fact that Stiles did not give up when he wanted something. He was an annoying, frustrating dog with a bone. But Peter would find that out soon.

\-----

As Stiles sat in the front seat of his car and watched the entrance of the hospital for the familiar asshole, he realized one sad fact. Movies had not prepared him for how incredibly boring a stakeout was. Oh my god it had only been an hour and Stiles already felt like he was going to lose his mind. And the worst part was that he couldn't look away from the door for even a moment. If he did, Peter could leave and he could miss it. 

But he was so. fucking. bored. Stiles was not the kind of person who could sit still for hours on end doing nothing. It just wasn't built into him. He fiddled with the radio, started and turned off his car, played with the windshield wipers, and messed with his lights. This only killed about two minutes, then he was back to wanting to blow his brains out. 

He couldn't imagine why the man was staying so long. What was there to do when the guy was just laying there in his bed, asleep. It seemed ridiculous. And all Stiles really wanted was a few minutes alone with Derek so he could say the things that had been on his mind since the day he'd met the grump. He sighed and rubbed his eyes impatiently. Maybe he could bribe one of the nurses to distract the uncle while Stiles snuck in. It was plausible. He certainly had the cash for it. 

He wouldn't though. In the last hour, this had become a sort of penance for not coming sooner. Stiles needed to wait to make up for the time he had spent abandoning his boyfriend. And in his mind, he needed to do it to prove to Derek how much he really cared. It was the gesture that mattered. So he would sit outside that damn hospital for as long as it took.

And after about another ten minutes, Stiles broke and pulled his back up tablet from his glove compartment. It was no where near the power of his laptop, but it would do to kill some time, and Stiles knew exactly what he wanted to do. In a few hours, he would go in and try again, but until then, Stiles would find out everything he could about Peter Hale. Call it instinct, but he had a bad feeling about the guy. Although that could have just been that Derek's uncle was a huge dick. With a shrug to himself, he opened up a window and logged into the CIA database with the login information that he totally hadn't stolen from his comatose boyfriend. That would have been a violation of privacy. 

Stiles fought the urge to ignore the tab on personal information. As much as he wanted to see I.D photos and boring tidbits about Derek, Stiles was on a mission. He typed Peter Hale into the search bar and pulled up an existing file on the man that covered a mysterious fire 10 years prior. It was obviously the incident that had taken Derek's family. Curiosity piqued, Stiles opened the file and began browsing it's contents. There was an incident report which he skipped over, several photos of the house burned to ash, and shapes which looked vaguely like bodies which Stiles didn't look at too closely. He honestly had enough on his plate.

There was nothing else of real consequence so Stiles opened the incident report. It wasn't as boring as he thought it would be. Peter detailed the incident in his own words, explaining that he had gone out to get a few things for breakfast. Laura had wanted to choose the cereal so she had tagged along. Derek had been on his morning run when everything happened. 

The fire was apparently caused by the fuse box which had been tampered with. 7 people had been inside, asleep. The outside walls of the house had been doused in a home made lighter fluid, and when the fuse box caught fire, it was only a few moments before the blaze was encircling the entire barn house. The wood caught easily, and by the time the firefighters arrived, it was far too dangerous for any to chance going in. 

Peter and Derek returned at about the same time. His and Laura's alibis checked out, according to the police records, and Derek was never even a suspect. Stiles skipped over Peter's statement, more surprised to find that Laura had a statement in the file as well. They had only asked her one question at the scene, and she had apparently been almost to distraught to answer.  
\---  
Officer: Did you notice anything off, this morning when you left with your uncle?

Laura Hale: I just....I don't know. I don't know how this could have happened. Who would...Who would do something like this? I just...I don't know. I thought I smelled something funny, as we were leaving, but I didn't think for a second that this....We were in a rush, Peter wanted to surprise everyone with breakfast, I just don't know.  
\---

Stiles closed the file. Something about it just hit way to close to home for him. He thought about Laura just a few days ago and couldn't imagine someone so bold, being so broken. He hadn't read any of the statements before, but he suddenly felt the need to go back to Derek's page and read his statement. He felt that familiar tightness in his chest but he ignored it. For some reason, he really needed to see what Derek had said to the police. 

He glanced up quickly to see if Peter was in sight, he didn't know why. Then he pulled up Derek's page and opened the matching file on the fire. There were several more folders in his. There were photos, including one of a teenage Derek, blanket over his shoulders, leaning on a the hood of a cop car. He was staring at his feet with an empty look in his eyes, hands behind his back. 

Stiles forced himself to look away. He could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat at the sight of this man, who he could only describe as being so strong, look so broken. And the more he read, the more photos his eyes landed on, the angrier he felt. It burned in him in a way that he had only felt once before. Stiles gritted his teeth and blinked hard. He knew that one day, when everything was better, Stiles would look for as long as it might take to find the person who had done this.

Promise made, he swallowed and turned his attention to the rest of the files. There was a physical exam record, a psych exam record, which Stiles did not look into because even he saw that as kind of crossing a line. Then there was an arrest report. Derek had tried to run into the burning house, and had assaulted the officer who took him down. No charges were ever pressed but he was taken in. 

The last folder was his statement for the police.  
\---

Officer: What time did you leave for your run?

Derek Hale: 6 a.m.

Officer: Where did you run?

Derek Hale: I don't follow a set path. Today I followed a stream east for a few miles then doubled back. 

Officer: Is there anyone who can corroborate your story?

Derek Hale: I guess not.  
\---

The content went on like that for a few more lines, Derek responding to the officer's questions as shortly as possible. Stiles' heart went out to the boy. He wished he could have been there for Derek. Or better yet that none of it had ever happened to him. No one deserved that kind of pain, especially not him. 

Just as he was about to close the file, and his tablet, Stiles caught Peter's name at the bottom of the page. Curious, he focused in on that last line and his heart skipped a beat. 

*Suspected in the murder of several family members by arson. Ongoing investigation and motive provided by Peter Hale. 

Stiles closed his tablet and looked up at the double doors that lead into the hospital. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait that long to catch the culprit. Maybe Stiles was just emotional, and Peter was just a huge dick, but Stiles had the sneaking suspicion that uncle Peter had done something very, very, bad, and he'd tried to pin it on his nephew.

 

\-----

Laura crossed her arms and glared at Peter as he closed the door behind him. She wished she could say that he was being unbelievable but her uncle was a dick. Nothing he did surprised her anymore. "You shouldn't have done that," she scolded, looking down at the magazine in her lap. She tossed it onto the bedside table and turned her attention back to her brother. She wasn't reading it anyways. 

"He shouldn't be here. He's not family," Peter said with a scowl. He sat on the other side of Derek and picked his laptop up once more. Laura honestly didn't even know why he'd come. He'd been working since he'd arrived, and the only time he'd opened his stupid mouth was to shun Stiles. 

It was an awful thing to think but she felt like Peter didn't even care. He had no idea what everyone had done to get Stiles into the hospital, and Peter just shoved him out, like it was nothing, like this wasn't someone who cared about Derek. And Laura hated to admit it but she needed Stiles. She needed him a lot. 

Watching over her brother everyday, seeing those tubes and machines he needed to stay alive, knowing that he could already be lost to her, it was almost too much for her to take. She felt like it was 10 years ago all over again. Like she was losing all of her family and she had no one to turn to. Most days, she couldn't breathe at the thought of it all.

And Peter, he was cold and standoffish. He didn't reach out, he didn't comfort. He wasn't the one that anyone reached out to in a time of vulnerability or pain. But Stiles felt the way she did. He understood the pain, and she knew he would comfort her until the end. And now that he had finally mustered up the courage to come, Peter had sent him away with a wave of his hand. 

She was so angry and hurt and struck by the unfairness of it all. Without a word to him, she stood abruptly and rushed out of the room. It was a 30 second walk to the nearest restroom, and she held in those angry, frustrated tears. She let the sobs escape her as she stared into that dingy mirror and wondered who she would be when everyone else was gone. 

=

Stiles gave up at 2 a.m. 

The stakeout had clearly failed, it was late, and he was going to see his boyfriend, even if it took him getting arrested for assault first. He wasn't going to let some asshole keep him away. So Stiles stormed out of his car and into the hospital, his determination building with each step. He wanted to throw up. The white halls, the smell of disinfectant, the idea of where he was headed, it nauseated him, but he didn't slow. 

When he approached the closed door of Derek's room, he kept his pace. Bursting in, he found that it was empty. No Peter, No Laura, just his boyfriend, lying in bed, looking like death. It took a concentrated effort to approach the bed, to even look at the man who he was pretty sure he loved, lying there, pale, bruised, beaten. He felt the tears pool in his eyes for the hundredth time that day, as he considered how this might end. 

Regardless, he took the empty seat beside the bed and placed both of his hands over Derek's. His throat was feeling tight, and he could feel the tears slipping down his face. He needed to say his piece before he totally lost it. It took three tries clearing his throat before any noise would come out, and even then he had no idea how to phrase this impossible feeling. He would have to wing it. 

"Derek....I don't know if you can hear me, if this is making any difference in the grand scheme of things," he paused, swallowing so loudly he was sure the nurse down the hall had heard him. "I just....I need you to know. You need to know that even though we didn't get along at first, and even though I push your buttons, mostly on purpose," he added with a choked laugh, "and even though we've only been together for a few days, I love you Derek Hale. I don't care how absolutely fucking crazy I sound. You've made my life better, and now you've gone and made it impossible for me to imagine myself without you. I know that Laura needs you, but I need you too. So you're going to have to wake your unhappy ass up and get back to us...Please...you're all that I have left," Stiles cut off in a broken whisper and returned his gaze to his unconscious boyfriend. 

That tiny flicker of hope that had burned in his heart was quickly snuffed out as Derek remained still. Stiles let his head fall to the bed as a broken sob broke free from his lips. He'd been such an idiot to think that he could help. Derek wasn't coming back to him. Not now, not ever. He was only good at one thing, he could only help one thing. 

Wiping up his tears and standing in a hurry, Stiles took one last look at his boyfriend. He would be back soon, he wouldn't abandon Derek again. But he couldn't sit there and do nothing. Instead, he would do something good. Stiles squeezed Derek's hand and rushed out the door. He was going to bring down the man who killed Derek's family, starting with Peter Hale.


End file.
